What Would You Give?
by lezonne
Summary: Diagnosed with a deadly rare cancer, spread throughout her body, Hermione has few choices for comfortable survival. It would figure that the only person who can save her life is the one person who would use the old slave deal as trade. But what secrets lie behind the illness? Warnings: violent scenes, minor character death. It's slow in the beginning but it's worth it in the end!
1. I'm So Tired of Being Here

**Notes: This is ****not ****the sequel to ****Think With Your Head Not Your Dick****, but another story entirely.**

**Timeline: **1 year after the war ends (1999), begins in October

**Genre: **Drama/Hurt/Comfort/Romance/Suspense/Adventure

*Will be labeled under Drama/Romance

**Warning: **will seem quite dark for a while to some people, will possibly contain sex (depending on my choice with the specific chapter I'm looking at) and characters may at times be OOC. Remember, Hermione's deathly sick with cancer, she's not going to be quite as brave as everyone's grown to know her to be. However, she will not become a crying sap, and if she does I'll warn in advance :)

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><p>Yes, I am still continuing the Sex and Love series, and have several chapters planned out ahead of time now that I am publishing this, which is also planned, but only one chapter is typed ahead unlike <span>Move Your Eyes Six Inches Up <span>**_**

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><p><strong>Summery:<strong> Diagnosed with a deadly rare cancer, spread throughout her body, Hermione has few choices for _comfortable _survival. It would figure that the only person who can save her life is the one person who would use the old _slave_ deal.

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><p>School had been unkind to Hermione thus far. After being back only a month for her seventh year, she had already experienced many pains in her right mid-thigh at inconvenient times, something that had been very uncommon during the summer and had picked up in pain levels towards the beginning of school. That would figure, hmm?<p>

At first, she had thought it was nothing more than cramps, but a month-long of nothing but pains that dropped her to the floor, she was sure it was something else entirely. Hermione Granger was not one to bow to pain-she had survived Bellatrix Lestrange's torture during the war, and had fought alongside Harry Potter. A few pains in her leg are nothing big, right?

Wrong. The pain that came when it decided to dropped her to her knees, doubled her over gasping and made her want a Cruciatus Curse simply so she knew where the damned pain originated from. She had already ventured down to the hospital wing once, having a lie made up about the cramps, and had downed some vile potion.

Needless to say, it didn't help her.

Now she lay in an abandoned corridor during supper, cringing in pain at her thigh, unsure how to make the pain slip away. This was more than just cramps, or bad muscles, but what? She had no idea.

Harry and Ron may not have been the smartest students in their year, but at least they had caught on to her strange behavior. It had been hard to see them really, considering that during the war, Gryffindor tower had been utterly destroyed, and repairs were taking far longer than expected. Nonetheless, Gryffindor students needed a place to sleep at night. With this fact heavy on her shoulders, the Headmistress had expanded dorms as best she could, in every way possible.

That is to say-head boy and head girl now shared one room, the luxury of the heads dorms being dropped sufficiently, and a large group of Gryffindor girls overtook the dorm that should've been Hermione's the moment she arrived.

Instead, she now resided into another room-the bedroom enlarged and split in half to accommodate both people sharing it and privacy, the small common room now shared by two people instead of one.

And what could make this worse? Having to stalk to the Slytherin Sex God's room, drop her things in the space separated by the thin wall that first day, ad then be promptly insulted by Malfoy himself.

War hadn't changed Draco as much as one would hope. He still had the over-arrogant attitude, he still strolled around believing that anyone who wasn't pureblood was unfit, and calling her a Mudblood every chance he got.

But, after all this time, that comment had ceased to hurt. It was just a word after all.

Hermione had pouted all day that first day, having learned how lucky Harry, Ron and Neville were to not only still be roomed together, but down in Ravenclaw of all places! Ginny was there too, and Hermione was even more irritated to find that she had gotten a room with Luna and some other girls from her house.

It was entirely _unfair_.

_"This is a way to promote house unity," McGonagall had told her when she had gone to the Headmistress' office to complain-even if she hadn't quite thought it right. But it was Malfoy after all, she couldn't just take being his bloody roommate sitting down. "You and Draco are heads, it will be most appropriate to have you two room together, and will further promote house unity. No Miss Granger, there will be no switching rooms."_

Well damn.

With the fact that she now lived with Malfoy aside, Hermione had other problems. The pain in her leg was making her slow lately, and she was often late to classes. Her points shrunk each day and she found herself terrified of losing her head role. The only thing that sounded remotely appealing about that, was that maybe then she wouldn't need to have Malfoy as a roommate.

Now she was lying in a corridor on her side, cringing in pain instead of being in the Great Hall, where her friends were probably worrying about her. Unable to get up and bear the pain, she simply laid there and hoped it would pass soon.

It seemed to only be getting worse.

Despite her current position she couldn't help thinking how utterly unfair it was that this occurred now. She hardly saw her friends anymore outside of class and meal times, due to her head duties, homework, and of course, _this_.

She groaned. The pain was subsiding, and in a few minutes she'd be able to stand up. Dinner would be over soon, and she'd have to return to her rooms to begin her mass amount of work. It was overwhelming really, even for her, and she liked to think that it was because of this irritating pain.

She almost laughed at herself as she lay on the floor. Pathetic really, Hermione Granger reduced to this pile of helplessness on the ground. What if someone saw her?

She groaned once more and pushed herself up into a sitting position, breathing deeply as she felt the pain slipping away-hopefully long enough for her to get back. When she felt she could bear it, she pushed herself up and magically brought her items to her, wincing as she began to hurry along the halls, passing the Great Hall entirely as dinner had only minutes left to it and she dashed to the room, hoping to find something desirable in the fridge that was up there.

The moment she reached the rooms door, she collapsed against it in dizziness, her head swimming from what she was sure had to be dehydration-what else would it be. Muttering the password she wandered in and dropped her things on the couch, before wandering to the fridge just as she had planned to quickly find her dinner, hopefully beating the pain in her hurry to sit down.

The door opened and clicked shut, and Hermione grimaced.

"Ah Mudblood, missed you at dinner. Thought someone might have finally done you in."

"I'm sure you'd like that Ferret, considering your inability to kill _anything_." She spun around to notice the darkness in his eyes.

"Careful Granger, or my hand may slip."

She nearly snorted. "Yes, I'm sure you have the balls to do anything terrible to me. I bet you'd love to Malfoy-to see me hiss in pain. Go on then-do your worst!" She leaned against the fridge, one eyebrow raised, waiting to see if he would attempt anything.

He shrugged, turning away from her towards the couch."Where's the fun in that? You already know its coming, I have to do it when its least expected."

She rolled her eyes, deciding to try to make her exit now that his attention was elsewhere on some sort of paper. She turned around and snatched an unappetizing chocolate bar from the cupboards before heading to the split bedroom, terrified that the pain would return at any moment.

_Look at me, reduced to nothing but worry over some irritating pains in my thigh. Honestly Hermione! Get a hold of yourself before this takes over your life._

Funny how that thought passed through her mind now, as she made her way towards the couch and the room just beyond, after having been disabled by some pain in a corridor for a good hour. She frowned.

And then it was there. She hissed and leaned against the back of the couch closest to the bedrooms, Draco's head turning at the noise and rather annoying bumping of the couch.

"Whatever the problem is over there, do you mind? I rather prefer to not be disturbed while reading." He noted that she didn't bother with a reply, and instead buckled over a little further, hobbling over to the side of the couch and collapsing over the armrest on to the cushion in a hissing heap.

_How undignified_. He used his wand to levitate some muggle writing device in her direction to poke the unmoving girl in the arm. Her body shook very slightly, and the shaking truly bothered him_._

_Being selfish aren't we today Malfoy? Well, what else? I should never have to deal with her kind in close quarters like this, after all. _"Granger, get up. You make a rather unattractive heap you know."

Hermione ignored his words and bit her lip, pressing her face further into the cushions of the couch as the pain surged through her leg. What the hell was this? And despite her horrible condition, Malfoy had the nerve to keep poking her with her own damned pen!

Draco didn't like being ignored, even by someone so low as her. "Get up already, your bum should never be in the air like that! It's terribly immodest for someone with your...credibility in the area."

Hermione huffed and flipped her head to one side, away from the cushion. "Sod off Malfoy, I don't have the time for you now." She pushed off the cushion to stand, and nearly buckled again as pain swept through her. She caught herself, noticing Malfoy's raised eyebrow as she hissed again, using the couch itself to take a few steps before letting go and swaying on her feet.

"Problems standing Granger? Has the weight of being a dirty Mudblood finally hit you?"

She ignored him, chocolate bar still clutched in her hand, deciding to return for her things later, and held her head up best she could as she took a few tentative steps. On her fourth, she buckled and went headfirst towards the corner of a table.

A rough grip on her arm stopped the collision and pulled her up into a standing position. Her body burned, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She could hear the disgusted sound of Draco Malfoy scoffing as he switched hands-this hand feeling like part of his robes were between their skin-to probably clean his other.

"Although its a wonderful idea to murder you now, I don't want an Azkaban sentence for being blamed for your damn death." He continued to grumble something she couldn't make out and hauled her body over towards the bedroom door, the separating wall just beyond it. Hermione unfortunately leaned into him for support, terrified at how flawed it was making her

._Doesn't he care at all that I'm nearly in tears? No, that would be asking too much. _She struggled as they walked towards the right of the wall to her side of the divided room, Draco using his other hand to put some distance between their bodies.

"Really Granger, I don't think I've ever seen your head held quite so low."

Her eyes snapped up to him, her head following suit, just as they reached her bed and he shoved her on to it, taking a few steps back. She hissed when her upper thigh hit the bed, any contact bothering it immensely but at least now she wasn't trying to avoid putting pressure on to it. Rolling on to her side she took a shaky breath, noticing how the pain eased a bit now that she wasn't trying to support herself-all thanks to Draco.

"Sit up," he hissed, as he turned and left the room, Hermione glaring at his back.

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><p>It was nearly nine-thirty when Hermione opened her eyes, the pain gone at prior. She rubbed her eyes, noticing that her upper arm was slightly sore and assumed it was because of Draco's overly rough grip earlier.<p>

She glared at the ceiling. This was pathetic. Obviously this was more serious than was first thought, and she needed to go see Madame Pomfrey before the pain returned and disabled her someplace terrible.

_Perhaps Malfoy will aid me if I ask...ha! Doubtful, he'll throw me back in here simply because its most convenient and he could never be seen standing close to a 'Mudblood'. _She sighed, getting up and stretching, grabbing her wand and pocketing the thin wood before walking out of her room. At the divider, she chanced a glance into Malfoy's side, and noticed he was absent.

_Unsurprising. _

She wandered into the living room, noticing again that he wasn't around. _Probably out shagging some girl, poor thing_. A mental image appeared in her mind of Draco and Pansy, and she shook her head quickly before the picture caused her to vomit, terrified that the word 'shagging' crossed her mind at all.

Mind whipped clean, she made her way to the portrait hole and left the common room, off towards the infirmary. She chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully as she walked, considering what else this could be besides the damned cramps.

Hermione Granger had read more books in her short life than many adults ever would. Her mind was a supply of pure knowledge and she prided herself in that. However, Hermione had never really fancied anything about healing except what she needed to know, unfortunately having a rather weak stomach that had almost been the end of her several times during the war. Medicine and healing potions and such were not her specialty, nor was disease.

And at that moment, she was drawing a rather annoying blank.

The sound of footfalls drew her attention, and her attention, and she looked further down the corridor to see a male approaching her. It was past curfew, and if a teacher or prefect were to find her, saying she needed to go to the infirmary would only draw questions.

_Perhaps I should work on being more sneaky. But what are they going to do, really? I am Head Girl. _

But Hermione's confidence in who she was, died and turned into irritation as the moonlight reflected the platinum blond hair of the only wizard at Hogwarts graced with those kind of looks.

"I see you've regained the ability to walk," Draco drawled, stopping a few feet from her and leaned against the wall. "Good, because its unlikely that I'd help you again."

"Of course not Malfoy," she replied coolly, her composure at its best now that she wasn't distracted by her own leg. "I wouldn't want to lean against someone so utterly arrogant that you cannot even consider another's feelings of pain. I would _never_ ask for your help."

He shrugged, his own composure as emotionally detached as ever. "Very well Granger, hold your head high." He walked towards her, and Hermione held her ground firmly. "You do it better when you're not whimpering as it is."

"I do not whimper!"

He smirked in the ill-lit corridor, remembering the sounds she'd made as he'd hauled her into her own bedroom. _Nearly seductive, but would have actually had a real effect on me if she weren't so damn repulsive. _"Lie to yourself if you prefer," he breathed, enjoying how she wrinkled her nose and fidgeted, "but I'll always know the truth. You whimper Granger, and if you ever do that in front of the wrong man you'll find yourself in a terrible situation."

"Sod off Ma-" she began, until she started feeling the dull pain in her thigh, and realized suddenly if she did not leave right that instant the he would witness her collapsed on the floor in pain, and she really didn't want him to see her in pain _twice_ in the same day. "I must be going," she said through clenched teeth and tried to maneuver around him, only to find herself being blocked by his body.

"Now you're running for a good vocal fight? How very _un-Gryffindor _of you," he hissed, looking for a rise in her anger. She'd soiled his school robes with her filthy skin, he had all rights to make her angry and red.

If the circumstances were different, Hermione may have retorted with some sharp-witted comeback, but she could only focus on getting away from him and down the hall to Madame Pomfrey's before she collapsed like she always did when the pain hit its climax, and it was well on its way by this time. "Really," she hissed, any demand in her voice now gone, "I have to go." She tried to scoot around him again and he again got in her way. "Let me go!"

"You're not yourself lately Granger," he said simply, eyebrow lifted. "Crippled in pain earlier, no witty comebacks, you're almost as pathetic as that Weasel."

"Shut it," she hissed, placing her hand lightly on the wall which she was once again next to. "I don't have time for you now Ferret, so if you'll excuse me-"

She cut off her sentence and buckled, clutching her thigh and hissing in pain as she slid to the floor, her vision of Malfoy blocked by her hair. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing this insufferable pain to disappear.

Draco raised an eyebrow as she fell to the floor, clutching at her leg. She was making a low sound, and he assumed it to be pain from her fetal position. "You were heading to the infirmary I suppose?"

She didn't bother trying to force out a response, just shook her head one and willed herself not to cry, positive that he would hold _that _over her until she died. "You might've mentioned that then. It would save me the bloody trouble of trying to escort you there myself."

Hermione's mind, amidst the pain, tried to decipher his meaning behind that. Draco Malfoy couldn't have any intention of helping her, could he?

Before she could possibly ponder that any further, she felt another cloth-covered hand jerking her up to her feet, and she whimpered in pain a bit, cursing herself internally for her sign of weakness. Her leg buckled under her and she slumped into the wall, avoiding him at all costs and inhaling sharply.

_Oh Merlin, this hurts._

He grumbled, before speaking up to her. "If I pull you off that god damn wall are you going to sink again? I really prefer to _not_ have to touch you."

She tried for a reply, but realized her pain was being withheld by the quietness of her lips and decided to nod, hating herself for admitting anything to the annoying prick but knowing that slumping to the floor again would be even worse.

He cursed, grabbing her shoulder rather harshly and spinning her to look at him. She clamped her eyes shut. "Open them," he hissed into her face. When she refused he shook her shoulders once and the small cry that came through her lips stopped him short

._Honestly, I can't be hurting her that fucking badly. It's in her god damn leg right?_

He eased his grip but kept the firm grip on her shoulders. "Open your god damn eyes or I'll shake you again."

Hermione let her eyes drift open, feeling the hotness of a tear slip down her cheek in the process. Merlin, the pain radiating through her body was unbearable. Rarely had it ever coursed through her whole being, and never once as bad as now.

Silver pools glared at her, and he took a sharp breath through his nose to keep his anger controlled. "You ever tell anyone about this, and I swear you _will_ regret it Mudblood."

She pursed her lips, and before she could voice her question he had swept her up into his arms, a disturbed look on his features and she settled in. The position hurt, and she hissed, another tear sliding down her cheek.

_It just gets worse every god damn time_. Hermione's head lulled back on his arm, her eyes closed again as she slowly felt him begin to move.

"Put your god damn cheek against my chest before your neck snaps off. I really don't want to have gone through all this trouble just to end up with a headless corpse." He gave her a rather hard shake and she snapped her head around to lean against him, the jostle causing pain waves to sweep over her.

The infirmary wasn't far, and Hermione was almost discussed with herself to realize the pain had been slowly dying as she lay limply in his grip. How mortifying.

The moment they entered the room, Madame Pomfrey was at their side.

"Good heavens! What's happened to her?" The witch flicked her wand and the large space lit, Hermione snapping her eyes shut at the unwelcome brightness. "Here Mr. Malfoy- here! Set her down on this cot."

Draco frowned, depositing the girl on to a nearby bed, her eyes shut and her hands clenched, bottom lip being bit upon. He glanced at her a moment longer, before turning on his heel to leave.

"Mr. Malfoy," the witch called after him, and he turned around to stare at her with a blank expression, "take a seat. I'm suspecting the Headmistress will wand a story about what's happened."

"She-"

"Not to me," the witch snapped, pouring some foul looking potion down Hermione's throat, who sputtered a little at the unwelcome liquid. "It seems Miss Granger is in no place to explain herself."

Draco scowled, pulling out a chair on the opposite side of the room from the infirmary's newest occupant, noting that some first or second year took up another bed further down, and appeared to have a trash can beside him. He wrinkled his nose.

The witch gave Hermione several more things before turning her attention back to Draco. "I'll go and tell McGonagall about the situation-please watch Miss Granger, she's in a rather awful state at the moment." Without waiting for his response the woman took off in the direction of her office.

His scowl deepened. He glared at Granger, who appeared either sleeping or numb to the pain, because she laid unmoving, breathing deeply.

_If I had just left her to wine on the damn floor I wouldn't be wasting my time. I could be off with some innocent fifth year now, but no-she had to go and ruin any plans for the night. Those bloody professors will probably keep me for hours, for no fucking reason._

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><p>By the time the schools headmistress arrived, Draco had begun dozing in his chair. The gentle shaking of his shoulder both awoke him and brought his wand out immediately, aimed at Minerva, who looked less than impressed.<p>

"Restrain yourself Mr. Malfoy," she drawled, looking at the sleeping girl across the room. "Do you have a story for me, or should I just go call your mother now?"

He nearly chuckled as he replaced his wand. At 18, there was no need to call one's mother when you're of age, that was an empty threat and she knew it. "I hardly have a story to tell in the first place. Stupid girl hasn't told me anything."

"And how, Mr. Malfoy, did she end up in that state of pain?"

Draco opened his mouth to reply, but the school nurse cut him off. "She's been down here once before, I thought she was having cramps but the way she came in tonight makes me consider other possibilities."

Minerva turned her attention to Pomfrey, and Draco noticed for the first time who else was in the room. Remus Lupin stood towards the door, his forever injured shoulder away from the hard surface. How the half werewolf had survived the war after the spell he took, Draco couldn't quite fathom.

Professor Snape stood closer to him now then the Headmistress, who focused on something the healer was saying. His godfather stared at him, the expression unreadable. Since the end of the war, Snape had taken his old job as Potions teacher back up.

Professor Sprout sat on a nearby bed, watching the group with interest and concern, Professor Flitwick hovering by her shoulder with far less interest, choosing to stare at a nearby wall. It finally dawned on Draco that it was the heads that were present, dealing with this issue. _Bloody Brilliant._

"Would you please explain what happened Mr. Malfoy?" The Headmistress' eyes stared at him, her expression, much like Snape's, unreadable.

He shrugged. "I had been off dealing with some pointless mischief a few third years were trying to create"-which of course, was an utter _lie_-"and I saw Granger wandering down the corridor. We talked for a minute, and then she buckled to the floor and nearly started crying her eyes out." He wrinkled his brow. "I brought her here."

Minerva looked less than convinced that this was the truth, but nodded to him nonetheless, unwilling to waste time trying to get further answers from a stubborn source. "What do you propose we do with the Head Girl then Pomfrey?"

The healer glanced at Hermione, who appeared at ease at prior. "I don't have the tools here to correctly determine what's causing the pain. I would suggest sending her to Saint Mungo's Hospital for some tests that can hopefully discover what the cause of this is and give her some long-lasting pain relief."

The Headmistress nodded her head. "Very well. Mr. Malfoy," she continued, looking at Draco but not truly speaking to him, "will accompany her."

Draco's irritation pitched. "Headmistress, I-"

"No excuses Mr. Malfoy," she replied, looking at Hermione. "Consider this a Head Boy duty."She pulled out her wand and continued to talk. "You haven't much to complain about, this gets you out of class for at least tomorrow."

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><p>Saint Mungo's Hospital was a very irritating place. Immediately upon entrance two nurses scooped Hermione up and took her away for a few tests, leaving Draco with Minerva for company.<p>

At least Draco could be thankful for his strong stomach, which after witnessing the scene they entered into upon apparation, he was grateful for it. Had he been weak in any way, his dinner would've met the floor rather quickly.

Hermione was gone, the Headmistress turned to him. "I trust you two to be civil for a few days-"

"You said _one_ day-"

"Enough Malfoy," Minerva snapped, loosing her cool and forgetting the courteous 'Mr.' in front of the name. "Miss Granger is rather sickly and I need you to stay with her and let me know the details of her condition. Having the Head Girl in such a poor state is no small matter."

"Yes," he said curtly, "however, Granger does have friends-despite that number being obnoxiously small-that could be here in my place."

"I'm aware of that," she continued, staring at him, "however her friends did not make Head Boy did they, and could have a rather difficult time-saving their grades if they are gone to too long trying to attend to her. You though, seem quite good at your schoolwork, and I trust that you can easily make the assignments up."

He frowned. "And how long am I required to watch her?"

The Headmistress gave him a weary look. "As long as needed. I understand you and Miss Granger do not have a great history, but I ask that history be forgotten and you two move on with your lives. I would be truly upset if you killed her, or vise-versa."

Draco glared, sitting down. "I will not let you two fall behind," she continued. "If Miss Granger's stay extends you will go back to school, but a few days with your homework brought to you both would be fatal for neither of you."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Very well."

She nodded. "Good. Now, I must get back to school. I have other duties to attend to." She looked him in the eye. "And do keep me well-informed Draco."

He shuddered at the use of his first name. It was too weird coming from her. "Of course," he hissed, wishing to be done with the damned conversation.

Instead of replying, the Head of Hogwarts gave him a small smile and turned away to leave the establishment and head back.

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><p>Draco sat in a comfortable chair in Hermione's room, the witch staring at the wall in front of her, never once glancing at the boy who'd bothered to get her some help. <em>Ungrateful<em>.

A Nurse came in, petite with long legs and a chest that was supposedly hidden but unsuccessfully, even though the neckline was up by her collarbone. Draco gave her an appreciative smile as she walked in, and the girl nodded to him once, not letting him see whether she found him interesting too.

"Hello Miss Granger," she said dully, "how are you today?"

"There's no pain," Hermione replied lightly, flexing her fingers. "Whatever you gave me seemed to help."

The nurses eyes glinted sadly, and Draco wondered if Hermione noticed. A quick glance at her face told him that it was a no, and she appeared too caught up in wonder at what was plaguing her to pay any attention to those ever important minor details.

"Its a pain relief potion, however with what you have it wont last longer than a few hours, and as your guest has seen"-she glanced to Draco, whom Hermione only spared a vague flick of the head-"we have been giving it to you often." Draco nodded his head once.

Hermione wrinkled her brow. "Wouldn't stronger potions work longer?"

"With this, it has little effect."

"And what exactly _is_ this," Hermione asked before the nurse could say anything further. She felt anxiety rising up in her, and a feeling of unneeded dread swept over her. But, she hadn't been told anything horrible expect that the simple potion wasn't working.

_Yet._

The woman gave her a sad look. "You have Cancer Miss Granger, some type of bone Cancer to be exact."

Hermione sat quietly, Draco staring at her from the side. Her thought process paused in time, trying to take in what this woman was trying to tell her.

Cancer.

_Bone Cancer._

She gulped.

Hermione certainly knew about cancer-her own uncle who had skin cancer for a while, but after treating it and life carried on. All her studying and all her thoughts had never lead her to believe it was bone cancer.

Which...as she thought about it, didn't make much sense.

"Its not my bones that hurt...its the muscles."

She nodded. "I was told you would say that. Certain types of cancer-and extraordinarily rare types at that-can shift between the muscles and bones, and from what our results show, that's what this is doing." Hermione tried to say something, but the nurse rose her voice to continue over her. "The Medi-wizard in charge of your health has an idea what this might be, however I'm not to tell you until we get more results which will arrive in the next few days."

"You're to return to Hogwarts-on _absolute_ bed rest," the woman stressed, eyes looking deeply into Hermione's. "You do not leave your dorm until either myself, another nurse or the healer himself comes to see you. Your schoolwork will be brought to you each day by either Mr. Malfoy-"

"Unlikely," he cut in, glaring at the woman.

She glanced at him. "Healer Welsh has discussed these inconveniences with Headmistress McGonagall at length. You will either bring the Miss her daily work _or_ you will be on watch each day, depending on what that day calls for. Her condition can change drastically in simply a few hours."

Hermione felt the lump in her throat, and looked at the young woman with a bit of hatred. She was speaking with Malfoy as though Hermione herself was not present in the space, and it gridded on her nerves. Hermione _hated_ to be treated as though she did not exist. If you had something to say _about_ her you could say it _to_ her.

"I could have someone else bring me my things," Hermione cut in, looking at the girl with softer eyes that she hoped portrayed sadness and little eagerness to have Malfoy's help. "Really, I'd rather _not _have Malfoy touching my things."She sounded just as stuck up as he sometimes did, and the thought made her shudder.

"Afraid I'll loose a precious paper Granger," he asked, staring at the back of her head.

"Partially," she replied, still looking at the shook her head. "

It was not my decision, none of this is. I am simply a messenger." The woman pulled a new piece of parchment to the front of her collection held fast in her hands, and continued talking. "Bed rest, as I said, for several days until Healer Welsh says otherwise. No stressing yourself out, no walking through your dorm for long periods of time, no extended visits with anyone including Mr. Malfoy or any of your friends. You'll be sleeping a great deal of the time for these potions to set in."

The nurse set her collection of parchments down on a nearby table and looked at Hermione apologetically. "Is there anything else I can do for you at this time?"

The Gryffindor Princess looked back at her blankly. Her mind felt numb, and she didn't try to open her mouth and speak. Earlier, listening to her babble to Malfoy about his "orders" and such, she snapped vaguely from her trance long enough to say something, but the nurse's cool expression and the feeling of the blonds' eyes on her had once again brought silence.

She didn't _want_ to hear this. She didn't _want_ to be told she had cancer.

Cancer_. Rare cancer._

She realized that the girl was talking to Malfoy now, but she didn't register what they were saying. She didn't want to listen, listen to them talk about her new _restraint._

_'Where's your Gryffindor courage Hermione?' _Some detached part of her mind voiced.

_"Its gone. Gone away. The cancer's going to take it, just like it may take me." _The less helpful side of her mind spoke up.

_'And so you're just going to wait around to die?'_

Her thought process slowed. Death isn't scary, not really. All throughout the war she had been just outside the reach of death, but had been subjected to torture by Draco Malfoy's crazy Aunt Bellatrix. Death isn't a scary thing; the torture, the pain, the things that you'll miss out on for the rest of your life, well, that's horrifying.

"Miss Granger? Miss?" Hermione moved her eyes to look at the nurse, still trying to collect her thoughts. Panicking about losing out on life would do her any good. Besides, it's not like anyone had said there wasn't a _cure._

No one had told her this was _fatal._

_"Unless that's what the nurse was telling Malfoy while I thought. I must pay more attention, get my head out of this swamp! I'm Hermione Granger, brightest witch of my age. I will absolutely not lose my head over something as undetermined as this. Just stay calm, the results will come soon enough. And when they do, I can start determining what I will have to do...whether they are good or not.'_

"Miss Granger?" The nurse glanced at Draco, who raised an eyebrow at her. Did she expect him to know what was going on?

"Yes?" He turned his head to face Granger, who looked considerably paler then she usually did and her voice was notably quieter than normal. He raised a delicate eyebrow at her, wondering what she could be thinking right now.

After all, wizards didn't have much more success with cancer's then muggles.

Well, _unfortunate_ wizards didn't.

"Two Auror's will be arriving in about an hour to escort you and Mr. Malfoy back to school. Both of you are to stay in the dorm room for at least today." She glared at Draco and he thought it _almost_ made her less of an annoying, teasing bitch. "I was told to make sure that is perfectly _clear_."

Draco nodded once, looking at Granger, who for the first time turned her head, and gave him a real look.

The was absolutely empty. He shivered, at how utterly eerie that was.


	2. Surpressed by All of My

**Warnings:**** This story will be updated when I chose, since I have a sequel to write at this time as well, so I cannot ever truly give you a clear time when the next chapter will arrive, at least until I'm done with the other story (and perhaps the final piece to that). **

**This will also be quiet long-how long? I'm not sure but exceptionally long compared to my other stories. It will also be quite slow for a good while, including dark and there will be no actual relationship between Hermione/Draco for a good while-bare with me! This is a story focused on ****cancer**** and how Hermione gets the help to ****survive****. The relationship will come, just give it time.**

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><p><strong>Chapter names are now the lyrics to a song called <strong>**My Immortal ****by Evanescence. Lyrics will seem odd as you read chapter titles, but look at the titles as time goes on and it'll form a song.**

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><p><strong>hooker: <strong>Interesting name? And I hope this is quick enough!

**Eric: **Ah, so many questions. They will be answered in time, I assure you!

**daddy: **Very true...I guess we'll have to see wont we?

**my-account-rejected-me: **Thanks you! And yes, I was aiming for different :)

**lulu: **AW, well thank you! As for Draco, in most stories he's a "Royal ass" for a while.

**Terra Thee Terror: **Its kinda hope XD Here's the update!

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><p>Getting Hermione Granger back into her dorm room viva Auror was not as troublesome as Draco had expected it to be. Returning during the second morning class, most students were in their respective class, otherwise out causing mischief, and allowed the Slytherin Prince to glide through the halls with Granger grasping his arm and an Auror to her other side without having to be seen.<p>

Brilliant.

The only thing (well, _things_) bothering Draco at this point were the fact that the Mudblood had her dirty little hand clamped around his upper arm for support after her refusal to be carried, and the far less attractive witch whom was to stay with them for a while in the dorm. He rather missed the busty girl from earlier, and looked at the new girl with disinterest, her chest that of a twelve year old.

The Auror's followed into the room, but after Granger had been situated into her bed and the nurse had given her two potions, they departed, their job complete. Draco utrned to depart as well.

"Mr. Malfoy," the nurse called after him.

He internally groaned, not bothering to turn around and look at her. _There's not much to look at anyways, its not like I'm missing out._ "What?"

"Take a seat, McGonagall requested you remain in Miss Granger's room while I explain a few things to you both."

_Well, what good is that going to do? Its not my bloody cancer!_ He turned and glared at the two females across from him, undecided about whether or not he'd be taking a seat in the nearby muggle chair or not.

The nurse pulled out her wand and flicked it once, causing a collection of parchments to appear in front of her. He sighed, realizing this could be an exceptionally long talk.

"Miss Granger," she began, and Draco wondered again exactly why he was being kept there if the woman wasn't even going to address him. _Bloody bitch._

"I realize all this may come as a shock to you, and of course I can never understand how you must feel, however Healer Welsh believes you would like to know as much about your condition and options as possible, and sent me along to answer as much as I can-"

"Do you know what I have?" It was straight to the point, and Draco decided that the bluntness was better then the silent, dead person Hermione had been for the past few hours. If he had to deal with Granger, he at least wanted a sensible, winnable conversation.

The nurse shook her head. "We don't have the results back yet, but we'll know soon and once we do they'll be brought here and explained." The woman paused, waiting for Hermione to speak, but the girl just stared out her window thoughtfully.

After a moments pause, the nurse continued. "Miss Granger, although the magical community has more resources then muggle's do, diseases can be tricky to heal, especially tricky ones that are not well known."

"I know its rare," Hermione said, still looking out her window, trying to take in everything with as clear of a mind as she could, "but you have to know something more then bone cancer don't you? My knowledge concerning healing may not be as adequate as my knowledge concerning other topics, but I know that your test results by now have to have shown more then your letting on."

The witch nodded, watching the patient closely. "You're correct. You see Miss Granger, just like the story 'Helpless'-"

"Helpless," she interrupted, confused, and the witch's eyebrows rose up high on her head.

"You've never heard the story?" Hermione shook her head, turning back to look at her.

"I usually only read fiction."

"Sounds like you Granger," Draco drawled, walking over towards the bed with a smug smirk on her face. "Imagine, you of all people not knowing a common _childhood_ story."

"Actually its not that common anymore Mr. Malfoy," the nurse said, glancing at him for a moment then away, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. "Although Pureblood families carry on the tradition of telling the story to their children, it hardly stands with muggleborns or anyone else. Even Pureblood families that aren't rich have dropped the story, because of what it once represented."

"Would figure," he muttered. "No one likes what history has to tell."

"If you are so fond of the story," the girl said icily, the once admiring look in her eye gone, "perhaps you can tell it to Miss Granger."

She obviously didn't like the story either, and considering he had never seen her nor seen pictures of her, Draco assumed she was from another one of those families who had dropped the story. He smirked, folding his arms and moving his attention to the bushy haired twit, whom was staring at him.

"It's a slave story," he began.

* * *

><p><em>Once, there was no cure to our illnesses. Once you were sick, you were good as dead. Muggle's had no help, no sources to get the answers they desperately desired. Wizards faired much the same.<em>

_But, not all wizard's were so obviously naive. With money comes power, and Pureblooded families masked themselves by finding experts in medicine that could help them do so._

_In the 1300's the Black Plague broke free. An unknown wizard sought out for help, fearing the loss of his dear wife and only child. Having been turned down by multiple healers of the time, he stumbled upon a Gypsy Camp. Having no beliefs in those kinds of people, he made to depart._

_A young woman stopped him at the edges of a dirt road leading towards his home. She bowed low and help a small bottle in the palm of her hand. The man made to scoot her aside but was stopped at a snap of her fingers, and he slowly realized that the girl whom appeared a Gypsy was actually a witch. She held the potion out to him and asked what he would give to save who he loved._

_The man said that the bottle couldn't help him; every Healer in the world couldn't save someone from the Black Plague. The woman shook her head and handed him the bottle, saying in time she would get repayment for saving those he loved._

_The man took home the potion, and gave it to his dying family. Two days later they were healed, skin fine and moving again. But the bottle was empty, and the man could not help anyone else._

_Several years later he encountered the woman again on the road, stopping to thank her for her generosity. The woman laughed crudely and snapped her fingers, and a chain appeared around the man's neck. He yelped and tried to run from her, but found he could not leave his spot._

_She told him he had no free will anymore, and to be saved from the dead meant that you must forfeit your life to the savior. He argued that it was his wife and child whom had drank the bottle, not himself, but was shot down for making the deal. The woman drug the man into the night and his family never saw him again._

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><p>"How is this relevant," Hermione cut in, eyes narrowed into slits.<p>

Draco rolled his eyes. "I can give you a shitty summery of the story if you prefer Mudblood."

Hermione pursed her lips, glowering at him silently as he continued.

* * *

><p><em>The wife told her friends about her miraculous recovery, but could never help them herself. All people in the town believed her crazy, save one, Elizabeth Black, whom told her children and grandchildren about the encounter for many years.<em>

_In 1771, a great-granddaughter of Elizabeth Black, Charlotte Black, came down with something called Sarcoma. Desperate for help she sent a friend in search of a cure._

_A group of powerful wizards lived on the outskirts of their town, and it was there that Charlotte's friend, Anne, went. She stopped a man and begged him to help heal her friend, even explaining the story her ancestor had started centuries back._

_The man thought her funny, and took her into the road of homes, bringing her into a large room where several people sat, all sorts of bottles filled with assorted liquids sitting about. He told the girl that help would always come, if one were willing to pay the price._

_In her excitement, she said she'd give anything. The man nodded, and wrote her a complicated ingredient list for a potion to help her friend, and to return the list once her friend was healed. She did so, and returned several weeks later, only to fall pray to them an as his slave like the man centuries before her._

_Word spread, and rich wizarding families copied the lists that their servants went to fetch, never worrying about the disappearances of their workers afterwards. The lists were kept secret within each family, and passed through the generations._

_As diseases developed, wizards learned to alter their potions and offer aid to people who were desperate. After helping the poor soles, the families took up the same habits the Gypsy's had once had, and forced the people into slavery._

* * *

><p>"As time continued to progress, and the Ministry came into play, the illegal abusive habit was tired to be outlawed, but done unsuccessfully. Its rather hard to send someone to Azkaban when you have no way of knowing what they poses." Draco smirked again as he finished the story.<p>

Hermione was quiet. Pureblood's truly were evil! Selling people some form of hope and then destroying their lives over the favor! It was absolutely _disgusting._ "There's such things as warrants," she snapped.

Draco cut off the nurse who had been about to speak. "And what are they going to look for? Time's have changed Granger, families have become more cautious about what they withhold with disease. It makes for a better bargaining tool."

"That's illegal," she tried again, her mind jumbled. First she's told she has cancer. Now Malfoy's trying to tell her that its likely that because she has a _rare _disease, that some awful Pureblood family probably has the cure!

"Its not illegal," the nurse said gently, sadly. "Pureblood's have been abusing their ownership over cures for hundreds of years."

"Exactly," Draco cut in, his smirk growing bigger as he continued talking. How he _loved _to crush Granger's day. "While some people deem it wrong, like the _Weasel's_, other people have learned to benefit from such things."

Hermione looked at the nurse helplessly. "Why are you telling me this?" _And please don't let it be what I'm thinking._

She held the girls gaze, keeping her face as expressionless as possible, so that _Mr. _Malfoy wouldn't have anything more to say to her. "Since we do not know _exactly_ what this is yet, there is a _possibility_ that the only cure out there is being withheld by a Pureblood family. Although there are laws against curse's of course, and abuse and such things, there aren't any _effective _laws to help someone who goes to one of the families for help. If you were to take matters into your own hands, we could not protect you."

"I-"

"Furthermore," the nurse continued, talking over Hermione, "Because there are no laws, it is _highly _advised, that in the instance that we cannot cure you, that you _do not _go to them seeking aid. The deals struck through that magical bind are hard to break."

"What deals," Hermione asked, her voice dead again. "Malfoy's story didn't say anything about deals."

"Oi, but it did Granger," he snapped. "Losing your touch as you grow sicker I see."

She looked at him, thinking about frowning but deciding not to. _Alot of good that'll do_. "Such as?" _I need to get out of this fast! There's no way I can be missing such important details!_

"The man whom was drug away by the Gypsy? Yes what was it that was said...oh yes, "_to be saved from the dead meant that you must forfeit your life to the savior"_. I'd call that a _slave _deal, whether he knew it would happen or not when he agreed."

The nurse nodded, looking unhappy now. "Again Miss, I advise you to make _no _deals concerning anyone of that blood stature if they offer to help. It can be bad news."

Hermione adverted her eyes. It was all too much to take in at once, even for her. The cancer and the story weighed down on her, and she just really needed time to herself. She had asked her questions, and even if she wanted to ask more, she didn't think she _wanted _the answers just then.

"I think I'd like to be alone to think," she said absentmindedly, maneuvering carefully so as to avoid upsetting her leg, and laid down.

The nurse nodded once. "Goodnight Miss Granger, get some rest. Your body will need lots of it until something can be done. I'll check with you soon." She turned to look at Draco as she departed the room. "Well, come on."

He made an irritated sound, and briskly walked past her, not noticing the blush once again creeping onto her cheeks. She followed the rude boy out into the common room, hating how flustered he made her. Then again, he is _Draco Bloody Malfoy_.

"I'll be back to see her tomorrow, we should have results by then."

"Like I bloody care Miss-?"

"Annabelle," she said, looking down. When not arguing with him for the girls sake, she seemed rather shy around him. "Annabelle Day."

_What a boring name. _"Fine, whatever Annabelle."

She nodded. "Do be nice to her, Mr. Malfoy. You cannot even begin to understand how much this can effect a person."

_Like I bloody care!_

* * *

><p>He went to bed that night, eyebrows scrunched together an irritation evident. He hadn't even gone looking for some fortunate girl, he simply did not care at the moment.<p>

Granger was going to cause him to lose time. The damned nurse had told him, and McGonagall had _owled _him, that he was to stay in the damn room tomorrow for at least the better part of the morning, which meant _more _time with the Mudblood.

_Absolutely ridiculous! They expect me to share a room with her, now I'm required to hang around and be her errand bitch? I'll be damned if I'm ever doing that!_

He rolled his eyes. This _rare disease _was being blown out of proportion! Its not as if she would ever be able to find the family who could aid her. Even in just Wizarding Britain there were dozens and dozen of families who could have it, let alone all of Europe, or the whole damn world!

He smirked. She was good as dead. The blank expression in her eyes after his story, after the nurse's words, had made him happy inside, and Draco was rarely ever _happy._ Strange how it took a dying girl to brighten his day.

Well, its not _that _strange. And she's not even dying yet!

Closing his eyes, he thought of sleep, but his mind traveled to her again, and all the annoying pointless information he had been absorbing. A nice mental picture of the busty nurse popped into his head and he could nearly hear her talking:

_We know you have a growth in your upper thigh on your Femur bone. We believe you have other growths, but until the results come back we wont know anything, nor be able to determine the cancer you really have._

He sat up and threw off the blanket, walking to his bookcase with a triumphant smirk on his face, picking up a book he had decided to take with him from the Manor this year, his deranged father likely to have destroyed it and countless other ones that he had left behind.

It was an unfortunately well known fact that Lucius Malfoy had lost his mind a wee bit after the war. Five months in Azkaban, and released by paying extreme amounts of money, he remained homebound now, with too many memories of torture from _his Lord _and his diseased sister-in-law _Bellatrix_.

He shuddered involuntarily. Thinking of his father, his parents as a whole, was something he preferred to not do. Narcissa was bound to her husband due to the fact that no wizards ever divorced, and she wallowed unhappily in her home, never hosting a party, for who would come? Draco Malfoy may not have lost his popularity in school-if not have _gained _some this past month when he had branched out to Ravenclaws and even one Hufflepuff for...his _special _activities.

Where their sons popularity remained in tact among peers, his parents social status had fallen. Declared cowards (something even Draco had heard, though it was whispered in hushed tones behind his back as though people actually still had a reason to _fear _him) the Malfoy elders remained lonely in their home, bound to each other and living in the aftermath of a war they had been but pawns in.

He pushed the thoughts from his mind as he opened the book, hating when he had to face those things outside of school. He flipped through pages aimlessly, the topic concerning something entirely different then what he was looking for. He saw the list and quickly flipped back to the page.

He smirked. Oh yes, Draco Malfoy knew _exactly _how to save poor Granger.

* * *

><p>Morning rolled around slowly. Hermione stared up at her ceiling as sunlight crept through her window, unable to think with her mind spinning at such a fast pace. She was exhausted, thoroughly at a loss and quite hungry.<p>

The door to her room opened loudly and slammed shut. She groaned inwardly. It was barely seven in the morning, what could he possibly want?

"Ah Granger, up and looking like the walking dead. Its like nothing's changed."

She sighed. "Bugger off Malfoy, I don't have time for you."

He approached her bedside, after she had not sat up upon his entrance (damned girl) and stopped at the edge of her bed, in her eyesight. "I beg to differ. You have no one coming to visit you this fine morning, nor do you seem immersed in a book. You look rather bored actually."

"Thinking does not necessarily mean bored."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say Granger." He glanced over his shoulder at the tray he'd set down on her table to make the loud noise-not slamming her blasted door. Snapping his fingers, the tray levitated itself onto Hermione's lap.

She turned her head slowly to look at him. "I didn't realize you do wandless magic."

He rolled his eyes a second time, finding it to be annoying to even himself. "You wouldn't have known if it wasn't for this, and I bloody well prefer it as such. Whatever would I do with a _Mudblood _knowing everything about me?"

She shrugged and looked at the plate in front of her. "Perhaps you'd be a better person."

He chuckled. "And how will that make me a better person?"

She glanced at him as she picked up the muffin in front of her and ate slowly, as though the action hurt. "You may consider what your doing before you act."

He considered commenting but bit his tongue. He had no desire to become immersed in conversation with Hermione Granger. Instead he silently brought her chair from the other side of the room to himself and promptly sat down, enjoying how her blank expression suddenly turned to that of curiosity at his close company.

"You can stand to be so close to me Ferret? I would think after your inability to even touch my skin that sitting next to me would be the last thing on your mind."

_He sharp replies are back, at least for now. _"I have a feeling I'll be spending more time with you then I'd prefer. Besides, since you can't _see _which family is out there that can cure you, I figured I best at least step in and bring some redemption back to the Malfoy name."

She looked at him oddly. "It doesn't matter at this point who can save me. We don't even know what I have yet."

_They don't know what you have yet. _He shrugged. "I can still do what's best for _me_."

She narrowed her eyes and set down the last bit of muffin she had been about to eat. "What are you getting at Malfoy? Know something I don't?"

_How can I pass this up? A little toying with people never hurt anyone._ He leaned in close to her, hating how his stomach jerked at the notion, but he felt the need to make this as dramatic as possible, and leave her wondering as much as he could. He _is _a Malfoy after all.

He breathed on her ear, and she shuddered lightly at the hot air. "Darling, I know _everything._ It simply depends how well you play your cards." He pushed away, and stood, picking up her apple and giving the blank faced, confused girl a nod. "You'll know what I means soon enough dear Granger." He took a bite of her apple and watched her eyes intently, how they seemed to be fluttering between colors as the _smartest _witch of their class tried to figure out what he was implying.

She opened her mouth to reply, but before any words escaped her mouth the door opened again and in stepped Annabelle who smiled lightly at Draco.

The blond frowned. "And just how did you get in?"

She blushed lightly. "McGonagall gave me and Healer Welsh the password to your dorm, so that you don't have to let us in all the time."

He glared at her and the blush left her face. Random people having the password to his (and yes, Granger's) living quarters wasn't something he liked very much. "Next time just _knock. _I believe I'll be changing that tonight."

The nurse wrinkled her brow. "Mr. Malfoy-"

He held up a hand and made his way towards the door. "Its not your dorm, if _we-" _and he certainly didn't bother to glance at Hermione as he said this "-choose to change the password you have no say, and McGonagall shouldn't be handing out passwords so lightly." _I do have things I like to do in private that the damn teachers can't be finding out about, after all. _

The nurse wrinkled her nose. "Fine Mr. Malfoy, if you insist," she said sarcastically, "but I'll be needing to speak with Miss Granger alone."

"I was just leaving," he snapped, irritated with the girl. In two long strides he was out the door, slamming it shut behind him. On the other side of the door he rubbed his temples and took a final bite of Granger's apple, staring at the empty tray where his own breakfast had been.

He smirked as he thought over his conversation with Granger. The more time she had to think on it, the more conclusions she could draw. Soon enough he'd go back through and drop more hints. The girl could figure it out all on her own, without him needing to say it.

Then again, it could be fun to do that as well. Oh the possibilities...

He sat down on the couch, placed his hands behind his head, closed his eyes, relaxed into the piece of furniture, and smirked as his mind formed more of his plan.

She was going to have no one to turn to but _him_.

* * *

><p>Once Draco had left, the nurse took a seat next to Hermione in the seat he'd been occupying minutes before. She flicked her wand and the same kind of stack of parchments appeared on her lap again much like yesterday.<p>

"How are you feeling today Miss Granger," she asked as pleasantly as possible. She looked at the girl, who's eyes were focused on the plate in front of her.

"The potions have helped some if that's what your asking." Her tone was dead, much like her expression, and the nurse felt fear slowly growing in her stomach that the teenager would fall into depression over this.

_Does Hermione Granger even know depression?_

She gave the girl a thin smile. "I'm glad that you have experienced little pain, but we cannot leave you on the potions forever. With cancers, too much of any type of potion can cause them to worsen, so if you are to continue with this treatment if you choose, it can only be done about three days a week."

Hermione thought about that slowly, closing her eyes. She really just wanted the nurse to leave and stop reporting awful things to her. Three days a week meant she had to deal with the pain for four of them, and if the pain levels kept increasing she wasn't sure she could handle that. She drug her mind out of its fogginess, realizing the woman was again talking on about something.

"-level four, so we're going to work as quickly as possible-"

"What?" She looked into the nurse's eyes. "What do you mean its 'level four'? Where is Healer Welsh? Why isn't he telling me this!"

The nurse took a breath. "Healer Welsh remains at St. Mungo's to search for anything that can help you Miss. With the results back-"

"They're back?" She sat up, regretting the pain that ran through her shoulder. _Since when has the pain ever been so dominate in my shoulder? _She cringed, but looked at the woman nonetheless. "What is it then? What do I have?"

Annabelle glanced down at her papers, trying to recall how to pronounce the name correctly. "Ewing Sarcoma."

Hermione paused, thinking the name over in her head. _Sarcoma...I've heard that before someplace..._ "And what does Ewing Sarcoma do?"

The nurse gave her yet another thin smile, the Healer's having anticipated the Gryffindor to be full of questions. She reached into a rather small bag at her side, that reminded Hermione of the beaded one she had carried around during the war, and produced three separate, rather large looking volumes.

"Healer Welsh and McGonagall thought you would have a multitude of questions, and as I am not the Healer himself, I don't have all the answers for you. These books-" she gestured to the stack "-are both muggle and magical. Since there is yet to be a cure, we've looked into muggle treatments for you, since the magical ones cannot help you all the time. Please, read. I know you enjoy to. I'll return in a few days and if you still harbor questions, you can ask me then. Mr. Malfoy will be here in the dorm at all times to help you, and your schoolwork is being delivered here each night."

"I don't think Malfoy will help me in anyway," she said absentmindedly, looking longingly at the books. Research was her salvage, and if she was to be locked away in the dorm room with Malfoy, she could at least disappear into the words.

_I'm losing my touch a bit...this sickness must be effecting my brain, otherwise numbing me to information. What did she say about treatments?_

"Nonsense, the boy is bound here, and if he mistreats you it'll be fairly obvious." Annabelle ignored Hermione's obvious vacancy in the conversation and talked aimlessly, noting that Draco Malfoy had quietly opened the door and was now smirking at the two. She glanced at him, feeling an uneasiness in not knowing how long he had been standing there.

The last thing she gave to Hermione were several sheets with large amounts of writing on them. "I know these are in the books, but Healer Welsh also looked up some specific treatments you can consider, so long as we send you to a muggle hospital. The disadvantages of that are listed there as well." She looked one more time longingly at the arrogant man now leaning against the Gryffindor's wall. "I'll leave you to think, as I said. Good day Miss Granger, I hope some of this will help you."

Hermione nodded her head, looking at the books, but hardly listening, focused on a very boring spot on the wall. _I'll not think about this right now. Later, maybe tomorrow, I'll open those books and start learning. Not now, please not now. I have to sleep, I have to collect myself before I jump headfirst into this mess. I have to be in control the moment I take all this up, or I'll never win this. _

Annabelle waited a moment for a response, before realizing she wasn't going to get one, and turned to go, beckoning for Draco to follow her from the room. With a roll of his eyes, he did just that.

"What all did you hear Mr. Malfoy," she asked once the door had clicked shut. She smoothed out her boring top, not in the least bit sluty and her long shapeless pants didn't cause any arousal. He looked at a much more interesting plate of food behind her.

"Enough." He moved past her to sit on the couch, the nurse watching him closely.

"Do be nice to her," the nurse said, dragging her eyes from his lean form. "If you make it hard on her, it wont be difficult for someone to realize it."

"I'm quite aware," he snapped, leaning forward and picking up a small sandwich out of several littering the plate. It was just past lunch. "I have no intentions of making it...harder for her to survive."

The woman sighed and sat on the chair opposite him. "I think it would be wise to owl her friends, ask them to come see her for a bit?"

"Oh, have the annoying twits been kept away thus far?" He smirked, imagining the irritated looks on Weasel's and Potty's faces when they discovered they weren't allowed to know what's happening to their friend.

"So far, but I believe it would do Miss Granger some good to have her friends around her. Besides," she added, relaxing into the chair and looking at him, "it gives you some free time for several hours.

_Not even. _"I'll consider it. Goodbye Annabelle."

She frowned, gathering her things and departing to the door, feeling rather put out that the attractive boy hadn't even spared her a glance. After all, there were only a _few _years between them.

* * *

><p>Hermione lay in her room, staring at the books and parchment.<p>

_Ewing Sarcoma. Sarcoma...I have heard that before!_

She closed her eyes and groaned, rubbing her temples. The nurse had left a few potion bottles, but she could only have two more that week, and tomorrow was going to be hell without the help.

_Sarcoma?_

_Elizabeth Black._

It clicked.

"_All people in the town believed her crazy, save one, Elizabeth Black, whom told her children and grandchildren about the encounter for many years. In 1771, a great-granddaughter of Elizabeth Black, Charlotte Black, came down with something called Sarcoma." _

Of course! Malfoy's story had talked about Sarcoma in Charlotte Black. But, Malfoy's eyes had been gleaming when he talked about it, like he _knew _all about Sarcoma.

_Oh god._

The Blacks and the Malfoy's were merged by Narcissa and Lucius, and from Hermione's recollection the Malfoy's had more of a standing in the wizarding world, at least when the families merged. Granted, if these 'cures' followed typical wizarding procedure, the most respected and prestigious family would keep the most important things.

Like a cure.

To Sarcoma.

And Hermione had a very bad feeling that their cures could branch to Ewing Sarcoma as well. If so, she was utterly screwed.

_But of course, now my mind would chose to work._

* * *

><p>Draco didn't return to her room until just after their final classes would have ended, and he rudely barged in, ignoring any manners his parents had spent the better part of his childhood instilling into him.<p>

"So what kind of cures do they have for this little problem of yours Mudblood," he asked confidently, smirking down at her.

Hermione laid the hefty volume she had been reading against her thighs and glared up at him. It was the first book she had picked up, and so far she was only learning about it the disease, not the cure. "Does it bloody matter Malfoy?"

"Language," he tufted, getting in her face and going as far as to sit on the edge of her bed. "Its such a shame none of those books can help you, isn't it?"

_Then if you know it smartass, help me._ She shrugged. "You never know."

"Ah, confident Granger? Perhaps you can enlighten me on what this disease is exactly, hmm?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I'd rather not. Now if you'll please excuse me Malfoy, _get out _of my room."

"Touché," he said, lightly tapping her thigh in what he meant as a disapproving lecture.

Her leg exploded in pain.

She shoved the volume into Malfoy, who grabbed it and slammed it onto her bedside table, having thought she was trying to chuck the book at him in reproach. He looked back at the girl with a glare, noticing that she was hugging her ribcage tightly, eyes squeezed shut and a silent tear cascading down her cheek.

_Oh, bloody hell, now its her ribs too?_

He got off her bed and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the Gryffindor. What was he supposed to do? Call Pompfrey? A bloody lot of good that would do! The nurse Annabelle had said so herself, that too much magic in her system would only cause this to become worse.

Oh yes, Draco Malfoy had been there listening from the beginning, and if either of the idiotic women in the room had glanced at the door they would've seen him standing there, smirking.

In the end, he chose to stand there and make sure she didn't pass out or something else idiotic. At once point she begged-_begged_-him to leave, but he stayed rooted in place, watching her with a critical eye.

Several minutes later, her body finally relaxed and Draco waited for the witch to open her eyes. She did not, and he stepped closer to see if she were still conscious.

He sat back on the bed and leaned over her form, noticing that, despite the sweat, she had a rather pretty face. "Granger!"

She groaned, and reached out to hit his arm, but he caught her hand. "It would be nice if you didn't slump over after something like that as though your bloody out."

Her eyes flickered open dimly, and he saw a reflection of her pain there. It unsettled him, and he stood, letting the space between them grow.

She noticed his retreat, and would have smiled if she wasn't so very tired now. "What? Can't stand to see the pain in someone's eyes?"

"Nothing of the sort. I just don't want you to be bloody breathing on me!"

"Your so full of it Malfoy," she whispered, relaxing into her pillows. "Now will you go? I'm not dead, your still in the clear."

He huffed, and turned on his heel, leaving her.

He didn't want to admit it, but something in her words, and the dead, dreary tone of her voice had made his stomach flip.

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><p><strong>I have a facebook link now, for anyone who wants to follow me, talk, discuss a story, know about future stories or updates in advance, and so fourth. The links on my profile, check it out!<br>**


	3. Childish Fears

**A/N: **Sorry for the long wait! My mind as been elsewhere. This story is close to my heart, because I modeled it after the disease my grandmother caught, about a month before she died. I feel both very inspired to write it, and hurt, so updates maybe varied. This chapter is also not edited by my beta, because I need to update and I feel as though I have swamped her with my two stories, and for now I just don't have a second one to take this story. Anyways, I apologize for my lateness...enjoy!

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><p><strong>daddy: <strong>The horny nurse is fun...

**lulu: **Friends will appear in time...red on to see.

**mysexylover: **It is rather cruel...

**Eric**: In time.

**TabooLess: **Here you are! And thank you. I love the "Sex and Love" series.

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><p><strong>Childish Fears<strong>

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><p>October 5th dawned rather late, and Draco opened his eyes to the unwelcome sunlight spilling into his room. <em>Bloody hell<em>.

The one good thing about being stuck watching Granger was that he could sleep in hours later then the rest of the school. With a quick glance at his clock he realized it was only nine. Grumbling, he rolled over to shield his face.

"You never were a morning person."

Draco bolted up, snatching his wand and pointing it towards his bedroom door, from the direction the voice had come from. Glaring over his own hand, he noticed Zabini staring at him with an amused expression. "I never knew you were quite so jumpy."

Draco continued to glare, lowering his wand as he took in his friend. Zabini was all dressed for his day of school, and Draco sincerely wished he were in class instead of invading Draco's personal room.

"How the fuck did you get in here?"

Zabini chuckled, strolling over and then tore the blankets from his friends grasp. "Granger let me in, and nearly murdered herself in the process."

Draco's head flipped over and he raised an eyebrow. "She actually got up then?"

Blaise frowned, reaching out and slapping his friend upside the head. "You're missing the bloody point! Aren't _you_ supposed to be taking care of her so she doesn't have to get up and risk collapsing someplace?"

Draco groaned and stood, hoping to avoid another irritating slap to the head. "She could've just stayed in the damned bed." He reached for a clean shirt he had set out the night before, pulling it on and beginning to button it.

Zabini shook his head. "Your so full of yourself." He turned towards the door and glared at Draco. "Come on! I'm not quite sure how to make her feel better, but she said you know how."

_He woke me up to help the Mudblood? Could this morning be any worse? _Swearing, he got up and stormed past Blaise, into the common room and over to Hermione's bedroom, which was open.

He walked up to her bedside, watching as her eyes refocused on his, her jaw clenched tightly in what he guessed was a pained expression. "Just can't stay out of trouble can you Mudblood?"

She glared at him, hating that because of the cycle her cancer would take, her body couldn't support her like it needed to. Those books were a wonder, and she was assuming that the pain in her leg (the main pain in her body) was a large growth of this cancer, and resulted in her poor excuse for walking.

"Sorry," she said in a raspy, snappy voice that shocked Draco a bit, having not expected her voice to sound so..._used_. Focusing on her face for a brief moment, he noted that her eyes were a bit red, and he wondered if Gryffindor's strongest princess had spent the night crying.

_Wouldn't be disappointing_. He flicked his wand lazily, and Hermione's potion appeared. He made a mental note, this week already, she only had one more bottle of that stuff to save herself. The rest of this week would likely be hell.

He tossed the bottle to her, and was very glad that it bounced and hit a pillow. She reached over and picked it up, just as Draco noticed a large stack of parchments next to her, the top sheet written in tiny script that he could only presume to be hers. He picked up the paper not giving a damn if she didn't want him reading her shit.

"Malfoy," she snapped, reaching out to try and grab the paper that he held out of reach. "Get out of my things!" She snatched it back, meeting Draco's puzzled silver eyes.

_Muggle treatments are moronic. _"Good luck with those," he said, nodding his head towards the paper. "I doubt they'll do you any fucking good Mudblood."

"Like you would know," she replied hotly, her voice becoming even more terrible to listen to. "You know nothing about the muggle world Ferret."

"Oh? You'd be surprised," he snapped, glaring at her for a moment, holding her brown eyes in a locked gaze before snapping his head around to look at Blaise. "We're no longer needed," he hissed, annoyed at how little she had broken in the past day and stormed out. Granger maybe effected by her cancer but she wasn't going to bend towards him for help that easily.

_That's better I suppose...I like a good game of cat and mouse._

Blaise rolled his eyes and Draco disappeared out of the room, looking at Hermione. "Ignore him, he'll always be an ass Granger." Before she could reply, he too left, not wanting to be drug into a likely _difficult _conversation. He followed the overly emotional Slytherin into the common room, shutting Granger's bedroom door.

"You're an ass," he stated again, leaning against the wall and gazing down at his former house-mate on the large sofa. "I mean, Granger's an irritating bitch, but treating her like shit in this state is a bit low even for you."

Draco rolled his eyes and continued to stare straight ahead. "Shove off Zabini, your not in my situation."

"No, I'm not. However, being nice wouldn't kill you Draco. Honestly, the girl looks half dead already, no reason to finish her off."

"Ha! You act as though you don't know me at all-"

"Yes Draco," he cut in, rolling his eyes. "I know, you sincerely hate the Mudblood. But the girl doesn't have a fighting chance anyways, why make it worse? You might just end up in a bunch of shit with the Headmistress and Granger's friends after she's gone."

Draco shook his head. "Oh Blaise, you naive bastard."

Zabini raised an eyebrow. "Naive? I hardly see how I'm _that _uninformed, given the obvious situation here!"

Draco cocked his head to the side and finally looked over at his fellow Slytherin. "And what position is that Blaise? I hardly recall Granger's condition being announced to the whole bloody school."

"It wasn't," he replied coolly. "I questioned McGonagall about why you hadn't been in class, and the old bat told me you were watching Granger. So I decided to pay you a visit this morning, and who else would come to the door but the Gryffindor herself. Her condition seems...bad, but not incurable if she can get to a door."

"Your right," he hissed. "It is far from incurable."

Blaise wrinkled his nose up and narrowed his eyes Draco's change in tone. "Got a secret there or something?"

Draco snapped his head around again to look at him. "What would make you think that?"

Blaise shrugged, choosing to study the wall across from him. "You seem a bit off, eager even. When you heard that Granger could walk, your eye glinted. Whatever those papers were that you picked up, well, you seemed very heated over them."

It was Draco's turn to shrug. "She's doing to much for her health."

"Bullshit Draco," Blaise spat, standing, "you could probably give two shits and a fuck less about her health. If I remember right, you've been trying to kill 'the dirty Mudblood' for years. Or are those not your words?"

The blond stood, clenching his fists and narrowing his eyes. "You don't know what your on about Zabini. I don't know why you thought coming up here to see me was a good idea but you need to get the _fuck _out."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Well then, I'm sorry I made the effort to come up here and make sure the both of you were still alive. I won't bother next time." He huffed and stormed out of the common room, slamming the picture frame as he left.

Draco was quiet for some time after Blaise's departure. Was he being childish and rude to the only real friend he had? Blaise wasn't wrong-Draco could give a fuck less about Hermione's health. But, with the cure in his possession and the opportunity to take full advantage in the Mudblood anyway he pleased, it was too tempting. For now, she was weak and quite useless, but easy prey for him to manipulate into taking up a deal with him.

_Once she's strong again, the real fun will begin._

Blaise had been right, he had a secret, but not one he was planning to share anytime soon.

But why did Zabini always have to be nosy?

He sighed, flopping back onto the couch, hoping to fall back to sleep.

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><p>Hermione picked up her last volume on cancer some time after she heard the portrait to their room open and slam shut, deciding that Malfoy wouldn't be up and jumping at the opportunity to bother her for a bit.<p>

She looked at the volume, but felt depressed and irritated after her long night of pain and reading, and set it aside. Instead, she reached over for her small collection of papers, scanning through the contents and the notes she'd taken on her..._condition_.

_Chemotherapy, surgery, radiotherapy=muggle treatments_

_Common locations: Pelvis, femur, Tibia, Fibula, Ribs, Spinal Cord_

_Common in young adults, typically stowed in one place and doesn't spread throughout body, can be related with rapid growth in young adults as reason for development of cancer, traumatic events or a previous injury can cause tumor, spreads when tumor cells enter blood supply..._

Her lists went on and on. The cancer started because of rapid growth usually, which she didn't think much applied to herself. She hadn't been inquired...but the war had just ended, and with it her parents had died. Perhaps it was trauma?

She sighed. This was tiring her out, sitting there too long holding up a hefty volume. It was sad, thinking about one of her favorite and simple activities, reading, holding a book, causing her exhaustion.

She was getting weak, and according to her books weak meant she could break bones, sleep more, and if she didn't eat, die.

She hated it.

* * *

><p>Hermione awoke from a slumber some time later due to an annoying jab in the head. She grumbled, tried to roll over and hissed in pain. Her eyes snapped open to meet Draco's silver ones, and she frowned through the pain.<p>

Then he did something strange. He reached out, gently touching her pajama covered thigh and ran light fingers over it, trying to relax the muscles as pain clenched her. Her focus somehow moved to what Malfoy was doing, instead of the pain that was beginning to subside.

_I've got to be dreaming. Must be something I ate..._

"It's nice to see you two getting along well," the Headmistress said, and Hermione snapped her head around to see her standing at the foot of her bed. "Good morning Miss Granger, I've come to check on you. However, it seems Mr. Malfoy is doing a fine job taking care of you." She raised an eyebrow at the pair, as though unsure what to make of the scene.

"Of course," Draco drawled, removing his hand when he noticed that she had stopped shaking. "Its what you've been bloody telling me to do."

"Yes it is," Minerva said, eyeing them still. "How are you feeling Miss Granger?"

"Tired," she said, looking at Malfoy through the corners of her eyes. _So that's why he was being so damn...helpful? Was that actually helping me? _She shook her head slightly.

"I would think so," she said. "Do you have a nurse coming to visit you anytime soon?"

"I'm supposed to owl the hospital in a few days about whether or not I want to attempt some treatments. If I don't, they'll send one of the nurses out, yes." Her voice was horribly scratchy, and Draco crinkled his nose as he listened.

"Very well," she said, still eyeing the pair curiously. "Miss Granger, I'd just like to remind you that as head girl you have certain expectations to uphold, and I would love to see improvement in you." Hermione heard the underlying statement in her words, and felt her heart clench. "Keep up with your studies you two. I hope you get better soon Miss Granger." Minerva gave a strange, rare smile to the both of them as she turned and left the room.

Hermione watched her go. _She thinks that if I get sicker, I would be able to keep up with my duties, and she'll assign someone else!_

Draco on the other hand was whipping his hand on his pants. "Dirty skin."

She gazed at him. "You're the one that touched me, and it wasn't even my skin."

He shrugged. "Close enough." His expression darkened. "Don't expect me to help you like that again Mudblood," he snapped, turning away from her and leaving the room.

The door slammed shut, but she continued to stare at it. "I would never expect it."

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><p>The sun was beginning to set before Hermione had a visitor again, and although she wished it were Harry or Ginny, she took Malfoy's presence in with a deep breath, relieved from the solitude of her room.<p>

_If he would actually help me, I could go sit in the common room and not be so very bored._

"Homework," he said dryly, dropping it onto her bedside table. "You look like shit."

She shrugged, staring at the papers. "I believe you always think I look like shit, so what's the bloody difference?" He had to channel his ears to her voice, to make sure he heard her correctly. Hermione's voice was nearly gone.

He glanced at the glass of water beside her bed, and noticed it had barely been sipped from. "Is this the same glass of water from this morning?" She nodded. "Bloody hell, no wonder you sound like the dead." He picked up the glass and shoved it into her face. "Drink, before I get bitched at for not _watching _you."

"You hardly watch me anyways."

He rolled his eyes, not giving a damn if she was miserable. Well, not really anyways. "Just take a god damn sip will you?"

She took the glass from him and placed it at her lips, letting the cool liquid wash down her parched throat. She took another sip, two, three...until the glass was gone.

"Thank you," she said tightly, not meeting his eyes.

"At least you don't sound like the dead," he muttered, finding himself rather pleased that he didn't have to hear her scratchy voice anymore. "So have you found anything to save your ass yet?"

She glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. "Why do you care?"

He shrugged, as though it were nothing and turned to leave the room. "They'll just never work as well as what I've got."

Hermione watched him go. "Let me guess, you have that famous _Black Family Cure _to Sarcoma, like your story?"

His head snapped around. "What makes you think I'd have the _Black _cure? I'm a Malfoy."

"Yes, but your mother is a Black. If this so-called cure exists, your family would probably have it, especially since every other Black is dead."

"Not all of then," he replied calming, leaning on the wall. "You have to read into everything don't you Granger?"

She held his gaze from across the room. "I'm right then. You're letting me suffer while you have the cure in your procession!"

He was across the room in three long strides, in her face. She recoiled from him into the headboard, holding his eyes. "And your sure I have that cure for you," he snapped, breathing on her face.

"If your stories true," she replied, turning her head to the side much to her annoyance. There was just something about having Malfoy's face so very close to hers that was unsettling.

He smirked and leaned in a bit closer, turning to the side so he could see both her eyes instead of her cheek. "Don't worry Granger, when you realize you're going to die, you will find me." He backed away from her, fanning the air in front of his face as though her breath had been poison.

Hermione's head snapped round. "I'll have Harry and Ron get it from you, you git. You can't expect me to sit here and die."

He looked at her, with an amused expression. "And how will you prove that I have it? Imperio can't make me tell you-"

"And how did you figure that out," she asked, making to get off the bed and walk to him. She paused at the side of the bed before standing, looking at the floor fearfully.

"It wont swallow you," he snapped, watching her. "And if you must know, its a healing spell. I could be forced into saying I have it, yes. I could even get you the spell, yes. But you have no idea what else is needed to make the spell work."

"What's that," she asked, removing her eyes from the floor.

He smirked. "When you come to me, you'll find out."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something witty to him, but he was already gone from the room, blond hair disappearing to the side towards his room.

"Malfoy," she called out, but her voice still wasn't loud enough to be heard in the living room unless she really tried. Water or not, it hurt terribly to talk.

She maneuvered herself back onto the bed, lying down. Malfoy had her cure apparently, and was in no mood to share it with her, even if she was in dire pain everyday, missing classes and slowly dying.

_Just like Malfoy, he probably wants something in return anyways._

He wanted her to come to him, so he probably had something in mind as a bargain. It churned her stomach, causing worry over what he could possibly be thinking of. There was no way he was going to hand it to her openly, or he would've already done so.

_Why is it always Malfoy?_

* * *

><p>Not twenty minutes after Draco left Granger's room, a knock came on the picture frame. He grumbled, hoping if he ignored them whoever it was would go away.<p>

The knocking persisted, and Draco stood in a huff, wandering to the portrait hole and throwing it open just enough to look out and see who it was.

"Ah, the littlest Weasley."

Ginny Weasley glared up at him, her eyes meeting his without fear. He didn't like it, didn't like that she neither melted nor coward at his presence.

"Where's Hermione? She hasn't been around lately." She made to push past him but Draco gave her a light shove back into the hallway.

"Bed rest. Get a fucking note from the old bat and I'll let you in," he said lazily, blocking the entrance.

"I don't _need _a letter to see my best friend. Let me in there! Hermione!" She again tried to get past him and the same actions were repeated.

"If Granger wanted to see you so bloody badly she would've owled you. Obviously her little friends aren't that important to her. No go run back to Potty or something-speaking of which, where is the Boy-Who-Won't-Die?"

Ginny's cheeks were as red as her hair by now. "Harry and Ron are off at Quidditch practice. I came to see Hermione myself, now move already."

Draco gave her another light shove and stepped into the corridor himself, slamming the portrait shut behind him. "Look, your idiotic bookworm is very sick, and I'm under orders to not be having little guests over."

"Since when," Ginny snapped, crossing her arms. "I saw Blaise Zabini heading up here just this morning, and he didn't return for a while. You must've let him in."

"Zabini was _my _guest, and I'm not the one who's sick," he sneered, losing his patience. "Now go cry to your brother or something, I don't need to be wasting my time talking to the likes of you."

Ginny's eyes flashed a moment, and before Draco knew what was happening, her palm had collided with the side of his face, and the skin was warm.

Ginny Weasley had just punched him. He flipped his head around to glare at her, only to be met with the image of the Weaselette smiling like a fool, shaking her hand lightly.

"Hermione told me she did that to you back in third year...I never thought I'd have a reason to try it out myself."

Draco touched his cheek, knowing the skin was already slightly puffy even before he touched it. "Now there's no way in hell you're getting in."

"Don't worry Ferret, I'll just come back sometime with Harry and Ron." She smiled and turned to head down the corridor.

Some unknown pull convinced Draco to voice his question. "Aren't you on the Quidditch team? Or did you not make it this year?"

Ginny turned around and continued walking backwards, grinning as she looked at him. "I didn't try out-I have other plans this year." She winked. "And Malfoy? Don't rub your cheek too much, it makes it far more obvious." She turned before he could reply and skipped the last few steps down a corner and took a corner.

"Stupid Weaselette," he grumbled, saying their password and walking back into the room. His cheek hurt slightly, but he smirked as he remembered Hermione's own punch, which had caused far more pain.

_Girl can't even punch right._

_Am I happy that Granger's hit was harder? What the fucks wrong with me tonight?_ He shook his head, trying to clear up the obviously confused thoughts.

He fell back onto the couch, letting his eyes drift shut.

* * *

><p>An annoying tapping sound pulled him from his dreams, and he groaned, pushing his fringe from his face. Glancing at the clock, he realized it was ten, and that he had spent the better part of three hours asleep and without food.<p>

_If that's an owl that awake me, I'm going to hex whoever's trying to send mail._

He sat up and headed to the window, opening it so the bird could fly in and he could reach the letter. The owl pecked at his hand, and he drew back once, cursing, before he reached over again and snatched it away, digging through a drawer of the cabinet it had landed on to retrieve a treat and send it on its way.

Once the bloody animal was out of his hair, he looked down at the envelope before him. Pansy Parkinson's handwriting jutted out to his, and he rolled his eyes, tossing the envelope behind it. Whore mail was something he could wait on.

He walked over to Granger's door which was nearer, and opened it wide. The girl was asleep inside, and he frowned. He couldn't bother her if she were asleep.

Well, he could, he just wasn't sure he wanted his other cheek to hurt too.

_Who says I wont be prepared this time? _He smirked, but backed out the room nonetheless. There was always the morning to bother the mudblood.

He left the door wide open, wandering to his room and shutting the door, ready to sleep.

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><p>The sixth passed in a bore compared to yesterday. Draco had no bloody idea what to do with his time, and spent the majority of it in the common room studying some muggle device he'd found in Hermione's bag that continually buzzed.<p>

By dinner, he was bored and ready to be an ass. Wandering back into Granger's room, he found her to not be present. Strange, considering the girl could barely walk.

He grunted, and moved his eyes towards the bathroom, seeing a light beneath the door. He was oddly surprised that she could make it even that far without collapsing. _Not even one of those bloody treatments yet, and she's already crippling. This wont be a long wait. _

He wrapped on the bathroom door. "Oi, Granger!"

There was no reply. Frowning, irritated that he was being ignored, he wrapped on the wood louder. "Mudblood! I know you can hear me in there!"

He heard a quiet groin, and raised an eyebrow. "Bloody hell Granger, if you're immobile in there I'm _not _coming to save your ass."

She groaned again from the other side of the door, and he rolled his eyes. Bloody girl couldn't do anything on her own!

_That's better I suppose, less of a wait for me._

There was shuffling behind the door, and it opened a few seconds later, Hermione holding herself upright with the help of her closed in shower. Her eyes were big, and her breath smelled revolting, like she had recently thrown up.

_Disgusting. _

"Granger," he growled, watching her sway on her feet. "Get back in the bloody bed before you cause further harm to yourself."

She glared at him, but she was utterly pale and there were bags under her eyes. Any anger she was trying to convey was swallowed up by her obviously sick appearance. She took a few timid steps, letting go of the wall for a moment to step around Malfoy and crashed into the floor.

He swore, grabbing her arm roughly and dragging the girl up, throwing her arm around his shoulder and hauling her to her bed, where she tore from her body and fell onto the soft surface. He wrinkled his nose at her.

"I'll find you a breath mint, its terrible to be near your mouth."

She ignored him, rolling over, dragging her legs onto the bed and laid in an undignified heap. He looked at her, gazing at the broken girl.

"It can't be that bad Granger. Its been what? Three days?"

She spun on him, eyes livid. "Three days for you! Months for me!" She clutched her stomach and laid back again, willing the feeling to go away.

He stepped closer to her, looking at her oddly. "And its taking drastic effects now of all times?"

She clenched her jaw. "Its been bad for a while Ferret, you're just beginning to witness everything. The only difference is now, to try and help with the pain, the magic's draining me and making me weaker then before." She chuckled darkly, her voice scratchy once more, and it looked like the action hurt. "If you must know."

He shrugged, daring himself to sit down on the edge of her bed. She rolled over and gazed at him through half open eyes. He wrinkled his nose, noticing her hidden mouth, and accio-d the glass of water next to her bed into his hand. He shoved the cup towards her.

"Drink already, you obviously need to gain some fucking strength."

She narrowed her eyes further and didn't except it. "Get out. Get out and stop pretend like you care."

He rolled his eyes. "Quit bitching and drink already."

She shook her head, and when he forced the cup closer, she used some of her limited strength to knock it from his hands, watching it spill across her sheets.

He didn't swear, much to her surprise. Instead, to her horror, he looked into her eyes with cool silver slits and smirked. "Rebelling will do you no good. Might as well be as comfortable as possible Granger, until you get yourself out of this mess."

"I can't," she said, lifting her face up off the pillow. "You hold my cure, and we both know your unwilling to hand it over."

He shrugged, pulling out his wand, magically drying her blankets. "Oh, dear Granger," he said, timidly stroking her cheek, smirking when he got the shudder he desired. "I will give it to you, when you're desperate enough to offer anything, just like I've promised."

She looked at him. What the hell did he mean by _anything_?

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><p><strong>AN: **Chapter 4 is typed, I'll have it out soon as possible!


	4. And If You Have To Leave

**A/N:** Nice long chapter! And look, an update so soon after the last :) Not all the updates will be so very quick, but I wanted to post this. Also, any grammar mistakes I again apologize for. I can't get a hold of my beta for shit.

**mysexylover:** I will!

**HasBeen: **Thanks!

**Jelisha Baby 22: **Good to hear!

**lulu: **Here you go :)

**daddy: **Lol it was fun to write too!

**Ollie: **Draco does want everything... just wait until you see his cruelty really peak XD

**anon: **Here you go!

**HMK: **Thank you, Easter was a bit hard :( But, it'll get easier over time. Anyways, Draco is very fun to write in here. Its very different from my other story :)

* * *

><p><strong>And If You Have to Leave<strong>

It had been a little over a day since Malfoy had spoken a word to Hermione, and to say she was pleased would be an understatement. After their confusing conversation on the sixth, she needed time to think.

Which was slowly becoming harder to do. All of yesterday Hermione had been asleep, except on a few occasions that required her being conscious. It made her nervous. Hermione knew very well why she was so very tired, and it only meant her symptoms were getting progressively worse. From here, no one would be able to predict how long it would take for her to spiral downhill. It could be a week, or it could be several more months before her life ended.

The thought was terrifying. She wasn't out of it enough yet to no longer focus on her persisting death-no, she was still able to stay awake and think about and focus on the fact that she was going to die, and that the only person who could save her wasn't going to unless he got exactly what he wanted.

_Git_.

It was nearly two in the afternoon on October 8 when Hermione saw Harry's owl fly threw her open window. Extending her arm out, she took the letter gingerly in her hand, before trying to hide herself behind a nearby pillow as the owl pecked at her weak body, searching for a treat.

By the time she had shooed the owl away, Hermione was physically exhausted. But she was determined to read the letter form her friend before falling asleep. Opening it, she read Harry's messy note:

_Hermione- Malfoy has been a foul git to everyone recently, and refuses to let us in. Ginny did hit him a bit though for it the other day, sounded bloody brilliant, wish I had been there. A couple of us are going to come by after dinner, try and make sure he lets us in. I think Ron's top will blow if we get denied once more. -Harry_

She frowned, her eyes already drooping. She felt utterly exhausted, a few minutes of sleep wouldn't hurt...

* * *

><p>Draco found Hermione that way around four, bent over in bed like she had fallen asleep reading, a letter on the floor and Potter's white owl pecking at her cheek. He wondered how she could possibly sleep through that. She was sick, not numb.<p>

Stepping into the room he crinkled his nose. It smelled awful, making it painfully obvious to him that Granger had to be having a hard time showering in her condition. Still, she was a witch! She could try being a bit creative, after all.

With a sigh, he conjured a cloth, bucket of water, and a note that was written in his neat handwriting, courteously of a magic spell he'd learned from his father ages ago.

That would make the girl more bearable. He flicked his wand again, cleaning up the mess of books and papers beside her bed, simply so he wouldn't trip later when he returned with her things. He took a step closer, studying the Mudblood with a critical eye.

Her hair was greasy, and in need of a wash. Obviously that nurse that came by was doing nothing to help with her personal hygiene. He would have to talk with her on the next visit; no way did he want to help Granger bathe.

Looking closer, he noticed her bones seemed a bit more obvious against her wrists then they ever had before. Surely, if they had been that noticeable before someone-Draco Malfoy most of all-would've made a snide comment.

With a frown, he departed the room and walked hastily to his, flicking his wand at the book on his bedside table, flipping it into his hands. Draco abruptly turned and walked back to Hermione's room, making sure she was still asleep before opening the book and flipping through it, searching for the page he desired.

Instantly, the title popped out at him; symptoms. It read:

_A person who has developed Sarcoma can expect to feel highly uncomfortable pains throughout the inflicted parts of the body. If the disease is widespread, you will find Sarcoma classified under fatal, with these signs pointing towards the persons' death:_

_-Irregular or long periods of sleep._

_-Sickly appearance and/or loss of weight._

_-Change in diet/less liquid consumption._

_-Needing help moving around, even short distances._

_-Bones breaking over minor incidents._

_-Hair loss._

_-Loss of memory._

_-Mood swings._

_If the person is taking a treatment to help with the disease, and to increase life, such as Chemotherapy, Cisplatin, Doxorubicin, Ifofamide, Methotrexate, Radiation Therapy, Etoposide, or potions such as Infirmit`e, Sauvetage, or Todesgefahr, you may see these additional signs, which do not necessarily come from the disease itself but the hardships put on the person's body because of the treatments:_

_-Minimal talking _

_-Massive loss in weight/inability to eat_

Draco raised an eyebrow and glanced back up at Hermione, who's eyes were now open. Snapping the book shut, he stopped studying her entirely. He knew what he needed to know.

"What're you doing in here Malfoy?"

He shrugged. "It got quiet, I wanted to make sure you hadn't died quiet yet. I don't want that mess on my hands."

She rolled her eyes, speaking in the scratchy voice again. "Your utterly useless, you know?" She struggled into a sitting position, looking down at her lap as she did so. Once situated, she slumped back into the pillows, noticing he was still there in her doorway, relaxed against the frame, studying her with a masked face of indifference. "What're you looking at?"

He raised an eyebrow, before stepping into her room. "How long do you think you'll last like that Granger? A month, maybe two? Your getting weaker by the day, soon, your body will give out and push you into a constant pattern of sleeping."

"And you care so much," she muttered, voice still a rasp. "Leave Malfoy, I don't want to deal with you."

He shrugged, walking to the end of the bed and leaning against one of the posts. "You should drink, your voice is just awful."

Hermione shook her head. "Leave me be Malfoy, please. I don't have the energy to fight you and your pathetic antics."

"Oh? Whoever said I was here to fight, hmm?"

She narrowed her eyes, reaching out for the drink that was now slightly out of her reach. "Then why are you in here?"

He picked up the water and held it between two fingers, looking at her with unreadable eyes. "Observing."

"You have nothing to observe. We both know you have the ability to save me, and we both know you wont unless I give into you, which will never happen."

He shrugged. "I still have things to observe, whether you think I'd actually notice them is an entirely different story Granger." He handed her the glass, unable to listen to her voice anymore. She took it in a slightly shaking hand and drank a bit, before reaching over and setting it aside, noticing his charming note beside the bucket of water that read: _Wash._

"You could simply say I'm in need of a shower, I still get up you know."

He rolled his eyes. "And stumble around until I'm forced to come and make sure your still alive." He noted how little she drank, and the fact that her voice didn't change. "The last thing I want to bloody do is have to come and retrieve you from the shower."

"Like you care," she rasped. "You always look at women like an object, not a human I've known you for seven years Malfoy, I've noticed."

He shrugged. "You never know Mudblood. I do value my investments." He smirked, watching her eyebrows draw together. "And although you might have been some sort of blessed filth with your looks for a short while, your bulimic now."

Her eyes flared. "I am no ones investment," she fumed, her voice cracking even more. "And I still eat. That doesn't classify me under bulimic!"

"God Granger, calm down. You can barely talk, let alone scream. Perhaps you should sleep again, and rid me of your presence for a bit longer, eh?" Book tucked under his arm, he turned to go, answering nothing that she had said.

There was a moments pause before Hermione's voice chimed out again. "And Malfoy?"

He paused, but didn't acknowledge her. When she realized he wasn't going to reply, she continued, "My friends are coming by after dinner. Do let them in, or I'll be forced to stumble out there myself and cause a scene."

"Would that really be the brightest choice Granger," he asked, not turning around. "You may draw more attention to yourself then you desire if you collapse trying to get your precious friends in here to see you."

"Then make life easy Malfoy," she replied as smoothly as she could, "and just let them in without the hassle."

He chuckled, but didn't respond, and instead walked out her door, slamming it shut.

* * *

><p>Hermione made sure to set an alarm for herself later, so that she was awake by the time dinner was half over. Sitting in bed for another twenty minutes, trying to stay awake though, proved to be very hard on her tired body.<p>

That was until she heard the insistent knocking on the portrait frame and muffled voices screaming something that she couldn't make out. She could hear Malfoy shuffling about in the living room, but the portrait didn't open for another several seconds.

It was obvious that Draco was blocking their way in, because she could only really hear his side of the conversation. "You Gryffindor's are bloody annoying... bite me Weasel, your no more scary then your sister, which isn't a compliment... don't you think there's a reason she's been missing classes then? This is your little know-it-all after all... no I don't want to let you in Weasel!"

"We're going to see Hermione one way or the other," Ron's voice boomed through the apartment, and Hermione decided enough was enough. She had been unable to speak to her friends in days, over five days in fact. It wasn't terribly long, but they were people she had associated with every day since she came to Hogwarts and people who she fought beside in a war, and the connection was missed. Scooting the covers off she stood on shaky legs and used her bed to slowly walk across the floor.

That plan worked very well until she found herself without any furniture to hold onto, and had to use her own balance to stay standing. Needless to say, she only took about four steps before she buckled into the floor with a small cry of frustration.

The noise didn't go unnoticed by the group outside. Draco along with every person gathered at the room's entrance heard the loud crash in Hermione's room and quieted for a moment. Malfoy was the first to speak.

"God damnit Granger," he fumed, stepping back and letting the five people into his dorm room. He had no desire to be attacked by some bloody Gryffindors today, no matter how inferior he felt they would be both in physical combat and a duel. He sat himself on the couch, letting the group run off.

Ron was the first through her door followed by Harry, Ginny, Luna, and Neville. They crowded around their fallen friend and Ron reached out to grab a hold of Hermione and put her back in bed, bumping her bad leg. She howled in pain and he jumped back.

"What? What did I do 'Mione?" Five different Gryffindor's studied the girl, all oblivious to the source of her pain.

"Tell us what's wrong Hermione," Ginny said soothingly, kneeling beside her friend. "Did Malfoy do something?"

She shook her head because no, although he was an annoying and rather useless ferret in her situation, he had only helped her get to someone in both the times she had collapsed, despite his roughness. "No, I just need to go back to bed."

Ginny seemed to recoil at the sound of her voice. "Goodness Hermione, are you sick? You look awful." She noticed that Hermione's hand and gone up to hold her side, right over her ribs. "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head, ignoring the jutting pain she felt in her lower ribs. "No, I'll be fine. Probably just bruised something when I fell. I'm not drinking enough water apparently."

Harry bent down beside her too. "Can we get you up in bed form the other side? You must've hurt yourself more then you-"

"I'm just sore," she cut in, glancing at him. "Nothing else."

He gave his best friend a skeptical look. "If you say so." He reached down and attempted to pick her up bridal style, but was meant with the same howl of pain. Harry scooted back, giving her space. "Merlin, how are we supposed to get you up if we can't touch you?"

She shook her head, remembering Draco's earlier words, _You may draw more attention to yourself then you desire if you collapse trying to get your precious friends in here to see you. _She hated it when Malfoy was right.

Gritting her teeth, she picked an option that wouldn't hurt her, but would provide her with more questions then she wanted. Levitation would be fine, but they didn't know there was a growth on the back of her leg that would surge with pain the moment they set her down on her bed, or that she had possibly broken a rib in the fall. She couldn't very well go about explaining that to them.

"Go get Malfoy," she rasped, eyes still shut. The silence that followed told her they were very confused, but the few times he had picked her up, he had figured out where it hurt and at least had the decency to avoid touching those areas now. It would get her off the floor a hell of a lot faster, and with a lot less pain involved, then any of her other options.

Ron spoke first. "Are you batty? I think you hit your head in that fall Hermione-"

"I didn't Ron," she said tiredly. "Just go get him, we're sitting here wasting an awful lot of time contemplating how to get me up."

"But why-"

"Oh Ron," Ginny cut in and Hermione opened her eyes to see red locks swishing back and forth as Ginny shook her head. "Stop arguing, its obviously not worth it. Just go get Malfoy."

Draco however, had been watching the last several attempts to get Hermione off the floor with mild amusement from the doorway, right up until Hermione mentioned his name. Since when did he become her little savior? The grumbling Weasel turned around and nearly walked into him.

"Problem," Draco asked coolly, not letting his emotions show on his face. He met Ron's eyes coolly, holding his glare.

Weasley's face was a rather satisfying shade of pink, showing his frustration with the girl on the floor. "If you've been standing here this whole time, then you bloody know! Why don't you help her already hmm?"

"Temper," he replied in that same relaxed tone, walking around Ron to stand in Granger's little circle of friends, glaring down at her. "I don't recall ever offering to help you in predicaments like this Granger. I may have predicted this, but that doesn't mean I was offering my services to you."

"Quit being a prick," Ginny piped up, glaring at him. "Or shall I slap some sense back into you?"

He looked back at her, eyes narrowed. "I always assumed you were borderline feminine by the way you dressed, but obviously I was wrong. You are more of a boy then your brother is."

Ginny opened her mouth to reply, but Hermione cut her off. "Will you just be of some bloody use already?"

He smirked down at her. He would be getting back at Hermione sometime later after her friends were gone. "If you insist, but I warn you Granger, its bad to run to Dragon's for help." He reached down and scooped her up, skin of course covered by his robes, favoring her injured side he had noticed earlier. No reason to make her little friends think he was hurting her just then, right?

He walked smoothly past the confused group, deposited Hermione onto her bed with an ungraceful plop and turned to go, only to come face-to-face with Ronald Weasley. He bit his tongue, waiting to see what the redhead had to say.

"I guess you are useful for something," he grumbled, pushing past. It took all of Draco's self control to not do or say something back, but if he lost his temper Hermione would bitch at him later when he came to bother her. He wanted to keep breaking her, keep making her feel worse about her disease, and eventually persuade her into taking his 'help'. Having her try to yell at him about a rude comment towards the Weasel.

She was slowly digging herself a bigger hole. Asking for favors from Draco Malfoy wasn't a smart thing for little Gryffindors to come running to him when they wouldn't tell their friends what was wrong.

Without further exchanges of words, Draco departed the room, removed his hands from his robes, and slammed the door shut.

All eyes fixated on Hermione, who sat limply in her bed, looking utterly exhausted in the light of the room. It unsettled every single one of them how very pale and sick she looked.

"Hermione," Harry began after several moments, "what's been going on with you? We haven't seen you in class for days, and now you're here using Malfoy to get off the floor, what on earth is happening?"

"Not to mention," Ginny continued, "that you look sick enough to be under personal care in the hospital wing."

She shook her head weakly, closing her eyes to block off the concerned looks on her friends faces; looks of pity. She couldn't take it just then. "I've come down with something-nothing serious-but it'll probably keep me here in this dorm a bit longer then I'd like."

"But why didn't you tell us that then? When you and Malfoy began missing classes together, everyone assumed the worst, right up until Snape made a comment about 'everyone's foolishness' during a potions class and told us you were on bed rest. We had to go to McGonagall's office to find anything out Hermione! Malfoy wouldn't let anyone in, much less tell us what's been wrong." Harry pushed his glasses up his nose a bit as he spoke, looking at his friend with nothing but concern. She looked too skinny, too pale, and he didn't like it one bit. "And your only explanation is that you've come down with something? Don't feed us those lies Hermione, please. We're your friends, we just want to make sure your alright."

"And also make sure Malfoy's not being a right prick," Ron muttered.

Hermione inwardly rolled her eyes before she opened them again. "I don't know quite how to get better yet," she said carefully, "but I assure you I'm fine. McGonagall had me taken to St. Mungo's-"

"You went to the hospital and didn't tell us," Ginny asked, her face downcast a bit. She thought of Hermione as a dear friend, and was upset that the girl hadn't even mentioned this to them.

"I didn't want all of you worrying over nothing," she said with a small smile. "I'll be well enough soon, and I didn't want to cause worry. I've been meaning to write to all of you-I have!" She looked at Ron's shaking head with sadness in her eyes, at his obvious disbelief. "But I've been so tired lately that I can hardly stay awake long enough to owl you."

Everyone frowned. "Are you sure its not serious," Neville asked, finally speaking up. "You make it sound pretty awful."

She shook her head once more. "No, I'll be fine. I just have to rest lots and take my medication and potions, and I'll be good as new in no time." She gave them all a strained smile. She was lying to them, right to their faces, but she couldn't face the truth.

She couldn't possibly tell her friends that she was _dying._

Luna walked up beside Neville and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Get better soon then Hermione. I miss you in Herbology. Its just not the same." She gave the girl on the bed a brilliant smile that lifted Hermione's spirits a little.

"Of course."

Harry shrugged, "If you say so Hermione, but if you aren't better soon we're taking you to Madame Pompfrey."

"I've already been to see her-that's why I'm back here. She says I'll be alright so long as I have someone to make sure I take my potions and monitor me-and the Headmistress chose Malfoy."

Ron gaped. "Whatever could've possessed her to choose that prick to monitor your well being! You were better off with Pompfrey, at least she wouldn't try to kill you! Hell, you'd be better off with a Hippogriff."

"I heard that Weasel," Malfoy screamed, obviously having heard Ron as he raised his voice, even through the closed door.

"Prick," Ron muttered again.

Hermione shrugged. "I thought so too, but Pompfrey is often very busy, and thought I'd be best in the comfort of my own bed. She trusted Malfoy-probably because he is excellent in potions. And McGonagall only chose him because he is '_Head Boy_' and able to catch up on his work faster then any of you."

Ron looked offended. "I am capable-"

"Ronald _I _typically help _you _with yours and Harry's schoolwork. She would never agree with that. Neville and Luna don't share my classes, except one, and Ginny's the year below. I'm sure that's why she picked him."

Ron huffed, and Harry frowned, but it was Ginny who spoke. "Is he being alright then? I don't need to repeat my last encounter with him?"

"What happened then," she asked tiredly.

She shrugged happily. "I knocked some of his pride down, lets just say that."

Hermione smiled slightly. "He has been... Malfoy. That will never change. He wasn't pleasant to begin with."

Ron spoke up, "If he does anything to you Hermione, just let us know and it'll be taken care of." He looked quite determined to go speak to Draco right that moment.

"I doubt he'll listen to anything Ron. He's a bigoted idiot doesn't absorb anything anyone says. Don't waste your breath."

Ginny walked over and sat on the opposite side of Hermione's bed, drawing her legs onto it. "We'll come to visit more often Hermione, I promise. Malfoy can't deny us now, not without causing another incident." She smiled and patted Hermione's pale hand. "Don't get out of bed next time though, we can handle him just fine."

"I know you can," she rasped.

"Now drink, your voice had sounded awful since we walked in." The redhead flicked her wand and brought Hermione's glass of water over to her. She took it and gulped down a few sips, before setting it into Neville's outstretched hand.

"Thanks."

"Of course." The redhead leaned across and hugged her. "Now get better! I really miss you at the lunch table. All I have is the bloody boys to talk to, and they're so hard to relate to sometimes. Its a wonder you dealt so long with them without losing your head!"

"Hey," Ron cut in, "we're not that bad."

Ginny shrugged. "Of course _you _would think that! All I ever hear is the same stuff I've heard for years at home; '_Don't you think she's cute Harry... I heard yesterday's Quidditch game between whoever and the other guys was bloody brilliant... Do you have our homework, I was dosing off in Potions... Are you finished with your plate already?'_ Honestly, you two are awful! Even Neville gets onto some of those topics with you!"

"Not all of them," Neville said, glancing at Luna.

"What's wrong with Quidditch," Ron added, frowning. "You love Quidditch!"

"But I don't want to always talk about it!" She shook her head and looked at Hermione. "I really miss you."

"Girls," Ron huffed.

"You have Luna," Hermione said, voice still a bit strangled.

"But Luna isn't around during mealtimes! That's when I really need you!" She looked pointedly at the blond. "You should start sitting at the Gryffindor table with me, I'll have someone to talk to."

Luna nodded. "I think that would be quite pleasant."

Hermione smiled briefly. Now Ginny wouldn't be alone. But it quickly fell off her face. They had only been there for about 45 minutes, but she was feeling quite tired. They couldn't just stay around and watch her pass out, that might draw more questions-_and_ they would be all alone in an apartment with Malfoy. She could only imagine the arguments and wars that would follow.

"I'm feeling tired," she said abruptly, glancing around the room. "I'm so glad to see all of you, but I really need to rest so I can get better."

Harry nodded. "Of course. We'll come back soon and talk again." He walked to her side and squeezed her arm very gently, terrified when he felt how very skinny she was, but he bit down his fear. "Get well soon."

She nodded. Everyone else came up and said their goodbyes, with promises to stop by again soon and brighten her day. She couldn't wait, but just then she couldn't focus on what she would say to them next week when she was still unwell. She just had to sleep.

The moment Ron was out of her bedroom, after giving her a farewell wave at the door and a friendly smile, she collapsed back into her sheets, heavy eyelids falling closed.

On the other side of the door, everyone was filing out of the dorm room, glaring at Draco as they passed him. He looked back with a bored expression, until Weasley spoke, drawing his wand as he passed the blond and drawing attention from his four friends.

"Don't you dare hurt her," he hissed, face still a hint of pink.

Draco glared back. "As if I would cause her more pain Weasel," he replied, pushing Ron's wand away. "I prefer to keep my merchandise in good condition."

Ron's eyes widened, and Harry drew his wand as well. "What the fuck does that mean," the redhead snapped, replacing the wand to Draco's throat at the same time that the blonds' shot out and touched his own.

Harry kept his distance, but his wand level just in case of an uproar. He wanted nothing more then to hex the albino, but didn't want to cause an scene. The last thing they needed was for someone to overhear as they passed the painting-probably a damn prefect-and come and check on them.

"It means," Malfoy replied coolly, "that when your precious Princess finally breaks and comes to my side for help, I'll have her begging."

Ron lunged at him, wand forgotten, and it took a very quick stupify by Harry to stop Ron from destroying the blonds' face. He sidestepped the redhead as he fell onto the couch, and Ginny accio-ed his wand into her hand.

"What does that mean Malfoy," she snapped.

He only smirked, unwilling to let any one of the Gryffindors' get the better of him. "Why don't you ask Granger next time you come bother us? Now out! You Gryffindors are invading my common room." He flicked his hand and wordlessly brought his wand back into the palm of his hand.

Ron was up and moving again, pissed at Harry for not hexing the damned Slytherin instead, and turned his attention towards his friend. "What did you do that for!"

"Well hexing Malfoy wouldn't really have done anything to help that situation," Harry began. "And the last thing Hermione will want to hear is how _you_ started the fight."

Ron threw his hands up. "Fine!" He turned his eyes to the blond. "Watch it Ferret, because if you harm a hair on her head, you'll have alot of people to answer to."

"I'm shaking," Draco drawled, leaning against the chair behind him.

"You-"

"Ron," Ginny cautioned, looking at her brother, "drop it before you two start something else." She swiveled her head around and glared at Draco. "We'll be back soon enough to see her anyways, so come on."

Ginny spun on her heal and left the room, Luna and Neville following behind her instantly, wanting out of the blonds harsh stare. Harry drug the hot-tempered Ron across the room and out the portrait, slamming it shut behind him.

Draco raised an eyebrow, slowly sitting back down on the chair. So the Weasel didn't want him close to Granger it appeared? Not a surprise, with the way he looked at her, but still, something enticing to play off of.

He grinned. More leverage.

* * *

><p>It was very early the following morning, barely two, when Hermione found herself writing a letter. Her dreams had been merciless, plaguing her with thoughts of death. Unsettled, she had woken up around midnight, stared at the ceiling for an hour, then tried to read a book.<p>

All she had figured out from her reading, was that she already knew everything the book was telling her. Why couldn't someone help save her? Sure, in _A Potion to Save Your Life_, they had described all sorts of potions for breast cancer, but anything related to her Sarcoma was labeled _undetermined. _The third book in her pile was apparently useless.

Now, sitting up in bed, staring at her parchment, she contemplated her next move.

The doctor had suggested to her that trying a muggle treatment like Chemotherapy or Radiation Therapy would help her prolong her life, but without the cure from Malfoy she didn't have a chance in the world of surviving. Her estimated life span was 6 months without the treatments, 9 with them. Her odds were awful.

But, what could she lose? She couldn't bear the thought of bending to Malfoy's rules to stay alive, she had more pride then that.

She slowly picked up her pen, and began writing.

* * *

><p>Draco woke up obnoxiously early to a thud in the living room. He groaned, already knowing what had happened, and wasted several minutes lying in his bed, positive that she remained crippled on the floor. A bastardly move that put a smirk on his face.<p>

Ten minutes later, he stood and threw on a pair of pants and a button up shirt, straightening the shirt and tucking it in before he went out.

To his surprise Granger was on her legs, leaning heavily against the back of their couch, staring at her room longingly.

"Do you always have to harm yourself," he asked relaxing back against the wall. "Because I must say, its getting rather old to pick you up."

She flipped her head around to glare at him, and he saw that there were tears in her eyes. "I had something to do. If you had gotten up when you heard me slip, we could've done this already."

He crinkled his nose. "Your voice might just be permantly stuck like that." He looked at the open window, which was letting in a bitter breeze. "Owling one of your precious little friends I see?"

"No," she snapped. "St. Mungo's. You'll be taking me there later."

"Excuse me," he hissed, pushing off the wall and stalking over to her. He gripped her wrist and watched her eyes instantly clamp shut, tears brimming over. _Since when does she cry? _"I don't take orders from anyone Mudblood, get that through your head." He sneered. "Least of all you."

"McGonagall already agreed to you taking me," she hissed, her voice almost a whimper. "Please let go."

He released her scrawny wrist, having been hardly gripping it in the first place. "You're so weak."

"What do you expect Malfoy," she screamed, flipping her head up to stare at him, crying openly. "Every time I fall, ever time I hit a bone slightly too hard it breaks. And they can't set it! If they mess with the bones to much they break _further_. What else can I do about it Malfoy!," she screamed at him, shaking in anger.

He glared at her. "You could always except my help."

She laughed quietly, before she coughed lightly. "I wont bow to you for help."

"Whoever said you had to bow?"

She smiled, her tears still running freely. "Because your Draco fucking Malfoy, and you would make me beg for my own life. If I'm going to die Malfoy I'll die proudly. I'm not going to beg you for anything."

"Just wait Granger," he snapped, getting in her face. "Wait until you can't even stand up, walk. Wait until you can't eat, can't swallow because your throat is so fucked up. Wait until your nothing but skin and bones, and all you do is sleep the rest of your life away. Wait until you have nothing left, not even the ability to eat something nourishing, and you _will _come to me for help." He grinned. "Trust me."

"Why would I ever do that," she said, tears finally beginning to subside. "Like I said Malfoy, if I die I will die proudly."

"But you wont let yourself die," he hissed.

"Why wouldn't I? Healing from this couldn't be anymore pleasant then suffering through it."

"Because," he said coyly, "you wouldn't do that to your parents, and you would never do that to Scarhead and Weasel, not if you could save them from the pain of losing their precious Mudblood."

"They would understand," she said quietly, feeling her knees slowly giving out.

He noticed, and glanced down. "Pathetic," he spat. "You can't even hold yourself up. Shall I take you back to your bed? Or is your pride getting too big for that and would rather have me leave you here to crawl on the floor like the common filth you are?" He narrowed his eyes and sat on the back of the couch, looking down at her, waiting for a response.

"I think it would be wiser to have you return me to my room, so the doctor has less to pester me about later," she said, her voice fading.

He looked her up and down. "Its about time you bloody asked, since your about to pass out on the bloody floor."

"I am not!"

"Oh really Miss know-it-all? Let's put it to the test then and see just how much longer you can stand there by yourself, hmm?"

Her face paled. "Malfoy-don't."

He rolled his eyes and got off the couch, hauling her up in his arms for a brief moment before she screamed. Unfazed, he walked her now trembling body into the bedroom and dropped her on the bed.

Her mind swirled. Malfoy had seemingly been trying to avoid causing her pain lately, but just then he hadn't cared one bit that she screamed in agony. Obviously, Hermione's assumption about Draco _trying _to help her with pain was wrong. _Why did I ever think that in the first place?_

"What did you break now," he taunted, cutting through her thoughts.

She was curled in pain, clutching her side. "A rib. I thought-I thought I broke one earlier, but this is so much worse then before. Its defiantly broken now."

"If you just stayed in the bloody bed shit like that wouldn't happen," he growled.

She looked up at him weakly. "I have to be at St. Mungo's around three."

He bit his lip, forcing down the urge to hex her, and instead decided to change the topic entirely. "Why wont you drop your pride and save yourself Granger?"

She blinked, and looked up at him, her watery eyes finally dried out. "Because my pride is one thing I never have to let go of."

He huffed and looked at a wall. "Its going to simply get you killed."

Hermione looked away from him, up at the ceiling. "Maybe, but isn't it better do die with some pride then with none at all?"

"I still think your an idiot to throw away your life like this."

"I see it as an innocent way to die."

To this, he laughed. "Innocent? Your not four."

"No," she said, eyelids fluttering shut for a second. "But I'm the victim to it all. I never wanted to die in this way, but it looks like I will be." She bit her lip as she finished speaking, hating what she had just said. Hermione Granger would never have said anything like that several months ago, she would _never _go out without a fight.

Now, she could barely walk. The fight in her was slowly diminishing, and all she could do was watch it happen. The doctors could help her to an extent, but she was now on a waiting list to die. And Malfoy would be watching the whole way.

Draco considered restating an earlier statement, but decided against it. "I'll see you around half past two to get you prepared for the trip," he said through gritted teeth, turning around and storming out the door.

He didn't see the final stray tear sliding down her cheek.

* * *

><p>Draco sat in his room not long after, thinking about Hermione Granger. Never before had he known someone so very stubborn and full of pride. She would rather <em>die <em>then bend to his demands.

He could _almost _respect her for sticking to her morals. _Almost. _

As he thought, Malfoy picked up the same book he had yesterday, flipping through the pages until he came to something that seemed to fit his question.

_... wizards have an extra chromosome that caries their magical gene. Because of this, they often avoid cancers and other serious diseases that muggles are not immune to. However, for a wizard to catch cancer they would've had to have been under circumstances severe enough to make them susceptible to the disease. Dependent to each person, the severeness of this event typically sets the rate of development for the sickness._

_A highly strenuous event can cause rapid deterioration in the subject. Death and abuse are the most common causes to this. Just like muggles, when depression sets in, so can other things..._

Draco raised an eyebrow. Apparently Granger had gone through something traumatic recently, and had caught Sarcoma as a result. Interesting.

However, he didn't really understand how that made her susceptible to disease. After a very short consideration, he conjured a quill and parchment, eagerly writing a letter to his mother.

Draco intended to fully understand all of what he just read, and everything that this sickness pertained, before launching into his final attack to get Granger in his grip.

* * *

><p><strong>Did you like? Press that little blue button down there and let me know...hmm?<strong>


	5. I Wish That You Would

**A/n:** New character appearances here! Along with some unhappy actions by some characters too...you'll figure it all out when you read :) And to brighten my day, everyone should leave a little review, so I know what to improve as well as what you would like to see. And remember, this fic is **dark**, so later chapters will be dark too!

Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**!

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><p><strong>I Wish That You Would<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>HMK: <strong>Malfoy certainly has some ideas… don't worry about that. As for a fight between the two? You never know, I may just have something in mind… but you'll have to read and see.

**Bambi: **Thanks! And to reply to her friends… Hermione is stubborn and will always remain herself no matter the situation, in some way. Am I right?

**Justine: (Chapters 1-4): **Glad you enjoy it!

**eau-bleu: **Thank you, I love my imagination too. As for my grammar, no its not up to par and I wont lie about that. I love to write, and I do try to read through before posting, especially since I can no longer seem to reach my beta (reasons unknown) but I did try for good grammar. Until I can have someone look through and help me correct my mistakes, it will have bad grammar and that's the simplest way I can put it. I'm not an English Major, so this isn't my field. In fact, I struggle with grammar. But thank you so much for reading my story, despite the grammatical errors.

**Eric: **The truth will set you free? Oh dear, you will be my stoner hippie reviewer…wont you? Not that I mind XD Anyways, all in due time Eric all in due time.

**Daddy: **She will soon enough! No worries :)

**lulu: **Pride? Hmm….maybe not in this chapter…maybe. Soon enough though.

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><p>Draco walked into Hermione's room at 2:35 later that day without knocking, finding a rather interesting view in front of him.<p>

"Malfoy," Hermione screamed as loudly as she possibly could with that scratchy throat of hers, lowering her arms and half on shirt to cover her bra-clad chest. "Get out!"

He let his eyes travel over her torso for a moment, surprised how utterly _repulsive _she looked. He had noticed before how skinny her arms were getting, but he hadn't thought about the _rest _of her. He could clearly see her ribs against her skin, a nice outline of each. The girl was nothing but skin and bones.

_Impossible. It couldn't have happened that bloody quick._

Hermione squirmed under his gaze, moving carefully to pull her shirt over her head. It was a tedious process he noticed, and by the looks of it she hadn't even gotten to her jeans yet.

_Bloody hell. At this rate, we'll never get there! And the damn doctor will have _my _head when it's all her fault!_

"Granger," he huffed after a quiet pause, storming to her side. He wretched the shirt out of her hands, causing her eyes to snap up, full of tears. He in return rolled his. "At this rate we're never going to get out of this fucking apartment. Your doctor will have my head if he hears I didn't bloody get you there on time. Let me help you with the fucking shirt. Some poor nurse can bother with your jeans."

She glared at him. "Why bother helping at all then if this is so awful for you? We're going to Floo, we will be there on time."

Draco frowned. "At the rate you were going with pulling this on, I highly doubt it. Now sit still and let me do this, because if you fidget, I'm _not _adjusting to keep the pain away."

"Wha-" She was cut short as he grabbed her left arm and drug it up, pushing it through a sleeve. Using his opposite hand, he picked up her other arm at a lower angle and did the same thing. She cringed and closed her eyes, but didn't make a sound as he pushed her arms entirely through the sleeves before shoving it over her head. She whispered as he made her raise her shoulder up higher.

Rolling his eyes, he drug the garment down her body, noting unconsciously how baggy her bra seemed around her breasts. She lowered her arms and frowned at him, clutching at her shoulder.

"I could've been meaner," he snapped, stepping away. "And don't expect me to do that again Granger. From now on you can dress yourself."

She glared at him, rubbing her shoulder softly with a boney hand. "Thank you," she said quietly, still glaring, "for not being a complete asshole."

He smirked. "Wait until next time." He glanced at the clock, noticing that it was five 'til three. "Come on then, lets get this over with."

Hermione was about to ask him about what 'next time' meant, but instead got caught up in his second comment. "Over with? We're staying there for three to four days Malfoy."

He narrowed his eyes. "You better be lying Granger. I'm not spending three bloody days in a hospital with you, _again_."

She shrugged, ignoring him. "We better go."

* * *

><p>Draco got off easy. After pushing Hermione into an annoyed looking doctor, he was told he didn't need to really be around during this. Pleased, he spent the better part of the day in his room catching up on his schoolwork.<p>

He soon found his owl tapping on the window to his room, and opened it wide to allow the bird in. He pet the animal on the head a few times, before handing it one of the treats he kept handy, and turned his attention to the letter from his mother. He quickly unfolded it and began to read:

_Draco-_

_Let me be very clear. That magic is dangerous son, and shouldn't be something you go around playing with. The potion instructions in that book are incredibly complicated, and would require you to go out and actually obtain some of them yourself. I don't think your father would approve of this, even in his... condition._

_No, the book was not lying. Wizards can become susceptible to diseases that muggles have no resistance to. However, its incredibly uncommon. To be in a vulnerable enough state to have cancer, especially Sarcoma, begin to grow inside of you, is rare. Whatever happened to the girl was certainly a very tragic experience. _

_However, from how you speak of her, it doesn't sound like you would be able to give her the potion correctly. Any incorrect brewing causes immediate death. That's why these cures are rarely used. The last time the Black Family Cure was used on someone was well before I was born. People simply try to not tamper with these things anymore._

_And stop terrorizing the poor girl! She's in a bad enough state as it is. You are just like your father, kicking people when they are down. Don't be like he once was Draco. Be better. We have no ties anymore that say you must be a complete ass to everyone._

_Who is this girl anyways?_

_Be careful my son. Don't let your need to have a slave get the better of you. I don't even want to imagine what you would do to her, nothing bad I hope! I would be very unhappy to hear about you taking advantage of her, do you understand?_

_Make the right decision Draco._

_~Mother_

He glared at the letter, before he stood and threw it into his fireplace, igniting the paper. He watched his mother's letter burn away, sickened.

She believed he would actually... no, he wouldn't even go there. Just because his ancestors had done those things, didn't make Draco the same person. The thought sickened him, that any man would actually force himself upon a girl like that.

Narcissa seemed a bit off her rocker.

Of course he knew it was dangerous! It had been illegal then, it was practically illegal magic now. He had no intentions of playing with it, nor did he intend to make the right choice and leave Granger alone. Or worse, give her the cure with nothing in it for him.

However, he knew damn well that he could give the final ingredient to the potion. If he couldn't, he wouldn't be wasting his time bothering the girl in the first place. And besides, he was excellent at potions, something his mother didn't seem to look at with much interest. She was too focused on his dueling.

Picking up a piece of parchment, he wrote a short reply, ignoring parts of the letter entirely.

_Mother-_

_I have no intentions of using this magic carelessly. I will be very careful if I do choose to use it, and I will study the instructions carefully. Thank you for the information though, it will be quite helpful._

_And stop worrying. I have no intentions of becoming what father was. I'm not that naive mother. I have seen what a thirst for power does to people._

_Let me know if his condition changes._

_~Draco_

* * *

><p>Draco returned the following day to the hospital, looking at Granger's weakened body with disdain.<p>

"What the hell are you doing to yourself," he asked, plopping into a chair.

She raised an eyebrow. "You've already been drug back," she rasped, voice nothing more then a hiss at this point.

He rolled his eyes. "Homework." He nodded to the pile he had dropped at the table by her door. "And don't worry my sweet, I won't return until the twelfth to bother you again." She glared and he continued, "You didn't answer."

"Why does it matter Malfoy? Nothing's going to save me."

He looked at the dying girl in the bed. She had bags under her eyes, and could hardly talk loud enough for him to hear. She seemed stripped of her confidence, lying there staring at the ceiling. She seemed to be begging for something to kill her.

"I could save you Granger, for the right price."

She gave a sharp laugh, which quickly turned into some harsh coughing. She hacked, her whole body moving, as the coughs wretched her. Draco looked at her, reaching out to rub her back in small calming circles. She stopped coughing soon after.

"What did you do that for," she gasped, out of breath as she rolled back onto her back.

He shrugged, still watching her. "I hoped it would make you stop coughing. The sound was truly awful."

"Of course that's it Malfoy," she said hollowly.

They were quiet for several minutes. "Radiation Therapy."

Draco, who had been entertaining himself by spinning his wand, stopped and looked at her. "What?"

"That's what I'm doing to myself; Radiation Therapy."

A page from the book at home flashed through his mind, and he remembered the additional hardships associated with Radiation Therapy; minimal talking and loss of appetite/inability to eat.

He shook his head at her. "You're going to make it worse."

She smiled to herself, looking at the dots on her ceiling. "I'm attempting to lengthen my life."

He laughed, and stood quickly. "At what cost? You're going to get weaker quicker, since Radiation is so bloody bad for a person, ever a wizard. You should've stayed with whatever time the fucking predicted, at least it would be more pleasant."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and turned to look at him. "And how do you know that?"

"You think I figure out all the shit involving this cancer out of thin air? I read Granger, and from what I know, Radiation Therapy, Chemotherapy, and all those other excuses for hope don't do you any good." He leaned in towards her. "Why prolong the process?"

She looked at him, not glaring. Her response sat on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't make herself say it. Not to Malfoy of all people. She pursed her lips.

He shook his head at her, floored. "When you want some real help Granger, you know where I am." He turned away and walked out of the room, slamming her door behind him and earning a rather annoyed look from a male nurse.

* * *

><p>Hermione had no more visitors until two days later. It was a October 12, a Friday, when Draco walked back through her door a second time. He sat down frowning, glaring at a nearby wall.<p>

She was propped up in bed, trying her hardest to focus on her homework in front of her without success. She glanced over at Draco, who seemed to be positively brooding.

That's when she noticed the purple mark on his cheek. Lifting an eyebrow, she turned her full attention to him. "What happened to you?"

"Shut the fuck up Granger," he replied, teeth grinding together.

She wrinkled her eyebrows, speaking in her same weak voice. "Purple could be an interesting color on you."

He got in her face, pushing her parchment to the floor. "I said, _shut up_."

She glared up at him. "Why Malfoy? What's got you so very pissed off today?"

He leaned closer, eyes smoldering. "Your pathetic Weasel decided I had done something awful to you when he couldn't locate you in the apartment." Her gaze softened, now simply surprised. "Your fucking lucky I didn't get to kill him."

She pointed her finger at his cheek, moving her wrist slowly. "Looks like he hit you there Malfoy. Sure he didn't almost kill you?"

Draco smirked down at her, breathing on her face. "You should see him."

Hermione opened her mouth to reply, when the doctor stepped into the room, raising an eyebrow as Malfoy moved away from her and say back down. Hermione frowned. Why did it seem that only she ever got interrupted in these arguments?

"Mr. Malfoy," Healer Welsh said, nodding his head tightly towards the blond. He then turned towards Hermione, and his expression warmed. "Miss Granger, how are you feeling?"

She shrugged limply, looking at the older man. "Sickly."

He nodded, giving her a smile. "Understandable." Stepping to her side, he glanced at Malfoy. "I need to check her shoulder. I ask that you step out of the room for a moment."

Draco frowned. That seemed like a rather pointless thing to do, if she had a tumor of all things. He could tell Hermione thought this odd as well, as she narrowed her eyes.

Deciding it wouldn't cause any harm, Draco shrugged. "I'll get some coffee." He ignored Hermione's look of slight discomfort as he turned his back and left the room, intent to find something to drink. Her horrid voice made him feel as though he couldn't get enough water in his system.

He walked down the hall, quickly discovering a small place to brew tea. Not exactly what he wanted, but better then nothing. He quickly warmed some water with his wand, unable to find another way to do so. He thought it was a shame really. Tea brewed from a pot was far better then something his wand could make. Even Draco would admit to that.

As he waited for his tea to finish, Malfoy leaned back against the wall. A nurse coming from the opposite direction caught his attention and he inwardly groaned. He was just not lucky today.

"Mr. Malfoy," Annabelle Day said as she reached his side, smiling widely. "What brings you back to St. Mungo's?"

"What do you think brings me back," he snapped, removing a tea bag from his cup and tossing it into a trash bin. "Bloody Granger again, doing some rather stupid therapy."

"Oh," Annabelle said, tilting her head to the side. "What kind of therapy?"

"Radiation. Its fucking stupid." He turned from the nurse, but found himself beside her a moment later, the girl trying to match him step for step.

"Radiation is very hard on the body," Annabelle began.

"Yes yes, I know. It makes you sicker and bloody useless."

The girl nodded. "Why did Miss Granger attempt this if it only prolongs pain?"

Draco let out a stiff chuckle. "Because she's stubborn." He reached Hermione's door and pushed it open, Annabelle unfortunately following him inside. He glanced back at her as he walked to his seat, passing a rather happy looking doctor and a terrified looking Hermione.

_Hmm._

"Healer Welsh," Annabelle said, nodding to him. "Is there anything I can do for you Miss Granger?"

Hermione glanced at the Healer, who was still smiling at her. Draco rolled his eyes. The man seemed far too happy for being the bloody doctor to a dying person. "No," she said, shaking her head carefully. "I'd just like to return to my dorm now."

The nurse nodded as Healer Welsh's smile faltered. He glared at Hermione for a moment, before replacing it with a look of indifference. Draco noted this peculiar action, and kept his face impassive, so the doctor did not think he had noticed.

"Of course Miss Granger," Welsh said, patting her hand lightly. She pulled it away and glanced at Malfoy, before looking at the wall. "Mr. Malfoy," he continued, as though her reaction wasn't strange, "please, take Miss Granger home."

Draco rolled his eyes. Wasn't that the reason they asked him to come in the first place? In case she bloody decided to leave so that they didn't have to actually call him? "I know."

"Very good," Welsh said, returning his gaze to Hermione. "Nurse Day will be by on Sunday to check up on you. Any problems please owl Miss Day or myself, and one of us will be by to check on you."

Hermione nodded, and after a few more exchanges of words, the two departed the room, leaving Malfoy all alone with Hermione. The nurse would be back in a few minutes to help dress her in something, and Draco was to help her gather her things.

"How does a sick person have so much shit in their hospital room," he muttered, picking up her stacks of homework and dropping it into a nearby bag. He did the same to her books by her bed, her ink and quills, and grabbed a small red bandana.

"No," Hermione muttered, taking it back. "I'd prefer to keep that."

He raised an eyebrow. "Sporting your house colors even while sick? You're just plain crazy Granger."

She shrugged, looking indifferently at the wall. He noticed her change in attitude since he left the room earlier, and decided it was time to once again bother the Know-It-All. "Problem?"

"We already know I have a rather large problem."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Not that problem." He grabbed his chair and set it directly next to her bed, and sat down so that he was nearly eye level with her on the higher bed. "Your obvious discomfort with your Healer." He smirked. "Aren't they supposed to help comfort you?"

"Be quiet Malfoy," she said in a small voice, looking at him. "I don't want to talk about this." She fidgeted in the bed, as though trying to squirm away from his stare. He raised an eyebrow as his annoyance flared, wondering what was wrong with her.

"Well of course you don't," he snapped. "Or you would've been the one to bring this up. So what's the problem Granger? Welsh tell you something awful? Oh!" Draco grinned. "Perhaps this little disease is killing you faster," he continued, flicking her arm.

She hissed and curled away from him, eyes large. "Malfoy," she choked, obviously experiencing waves of pain. "Please..."

His eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Please," she said again, staring up at her ceiling as a tear rushed down her cheek. "Please, stop."

Draco chuckled. "And why ever would I do that? Pain is the awful reminder to you that times running short, and my offer still stands."

She shook her head and turned away, muttering under her breath, "You're no better then him." Draco stared at her back, wondering what the bloody hell that was supposed to mean.

_Granger's slowly breaking._

* * *

><p>It was some hours later when Draco found himself staring at Hermione on her bed. She lay peacefully there, dwarfed by her bulky pillows. The radiation treatments seemed to have done more trouble for the girl then good.<p>

After three sessions, all that had been accomplished was Hermione's food intake had dropped. Since he first arrived at the hospital earlier that day, he had yet to see her eat anything, and very seldom saw her drink.

It seemed obvious to Malfoy that the girl was simply killing herself faster. _A rather stupid move on her part_. If she was afraid of hurting her friends and family by dying early, then she really wasn't doing herself any good.

But what really bothered him just then, was her hushed comment right before Annabelle returned. _You're no better then him. _What the hell did that mean? And who was _him_?

The only _him _Draco could think of was her Healer, who had smiled down at her too much and seemingly made her uncomfortable. So what had he done to cause the girls' fear? After several ideas had passed through his mind, Draco had shook his head, deciding to not focus on it anymore. They were uncomfortable, sick thoughts that made his stomach twist. He couldn't think about it anymore.

Instead, he found the other half of him thinking back to Granger's visible ribs, her frail arms and tiny frame when he picked her up. Nothing but skin and bones. It was bothering, but it was also frightening. Sure, she was very sick, but the rapid deterioration from nine days ago was terrifying.

How had she gone from well filled out to a skeleton in under two weeks? Ever with Sarcoma, it took a bit longer then that. People didn't naturally loose weight at that speed. When she had probably weight 115ish the first day he picked her up, Draco had seen the doctor's notes. She weighed in at 85.7 pounds. That was almost 30 pounds in less then two weeks.

_Impossible. _

Draco had his doubts then. He doubted that this was an entirely natural process. Sure the disease itself had to of originated from natural causes like his book said, but he had the strongest feeling that she was dying faster then planned.

Malfoy believed someone was out there, shortening her life.

A knock on the dorm door brought him back to the present, and he rose to his full height to go and answer the bloody thing.

* * *

><p>It was barely six in the morning on Saturday, October 13 when Hermione awoke. The sun wasn't streaming through her windows yet, but she felt wide awake, unable to sleep.<p>

That left her with time to think, something she dearly hated.

Radiation Therapy had done little for her. Now, she seemed even weaker. Welsh's assistant Annabelle had recommended Etoposide and Chemotherapy to her as well, if she wished to try again. But what good would it do? As Malfoy had plainly stated, she wasn't helping herself. If anything, she was killing herself faster.

Just obvious things really. She had just barely eaten during the days of her stay, and her throat felt so awful she didn't like to drink. It made talking truly terrible, but she just couldn't force liquids down that often.

Something Malfoy had just said a few days prior rang through her head; "_Just wait Granger," he snapped, getting in her face. "Wait until you can't even stand up, walk. Wait until you can't eat, can't swallow because your throat is so fucked up. Wait until your nothing but skin and bones, and all you do is sleep the rest of your life away. Wait until you have nothing left, not even the ability to eat something nourishing, and you will come to me for help. Trust me."_

She shuddered. Malfoy was a foul prick, but he seemed to be onto something. It was getting harder to stay awake for hours at a time, and she found herself sleeping an awful lot. She couldn't eat, she had lost too much weight too rapidly, and she couldn't swallow.

_Sounds like Malfoy's predictions were true..._

Hermione clenched her jaw. No matter how much the disease affected her, she refused to bow down to Draco Malfoy. He would ask too much of her for her own life. She was sure of it.

That left her with no choice but to die naturally. Sure, it would be a lot of suffering, but she would die free. Hermione had been sure to make that obvious to Malfoy. She would not die a possession.

_Who says you will die? Malfoy has a potion to save you, it can't be that awful._

She blinked rapidly, clearing her mind. She couldn't go to Malfoy for help; he would never let her forget it. Whatever he wanted as trade, she couldn't give.

This had walked her in a circle for the second time. Her thoughts were taking her nowhere. Sighing, she glanced around her room, thinking back a few days prior when her friends had been there.

They were all so concerned and caring, yet she was being selfish and blocking them out. They were fed a lie about her getting better soon, when in actuality she was going to leave them all. _How can I do that to them?_

_Simple... you can't stand to hurt them more. But dying without an explanation will be worse._

She groaned. There was just no winning here.

* * *

><p>Malfoy came in around noon, glaring at her. She was asleep, but he rudely walked over and shook her shoulder. She whimpered in pain and snapped awake, eyes wide as she curled into a ball and hoped the pain would subside.<p>

"Prick," she hissed.

Draco rolled his eyes. "If its so bloody awful, there is a new stock of pain potions. I'll throw one at you if you desire."

"Like that'll help," she muttered. "I'm not going to use one right now just because your being an ass. Now what is so bloody important?"

He glared at her back, and grabbed her shoulder to flip her around, purposefully using a rough grip. She withered and glared up at him, resisting the urge to cry. He chuckled. "Why bother hiding your tears now Mudblood? I've seen quite a lot of them recently, it makes no difference anymore." His expression turned harsh again, and he added just a bit more pressure. "Don't be a bitch. I could do nothing for you."

"I still prefer to restrain them when possible Ferret. I don't particularly like to cry in front of you. And you hardly do anything! Now, what is it that you need?"

He rolled his eyes again. "Weasel came to see you not twenty minutes ago. I couldn't get you to bloody wake up and sent him off."

Her eyes widened. "Ron was here? You should've just brought him in!"

Draco snorted. "Of course Granger, because I love inviting your friends into our dorm as though they belong here! He will probably return soon anyways, what with that fuming attitude of his."

She glared up at him. "Don't send my friends away Malfoy. It's not as if I have much time left with them."

He tsked. "Don't pity yourself, dear Mudblood. We both know there is a way to save yourself; you simply have to accept it and take initiative. Since you're so bloody worried about your friends, why not just save their own suffering and take up my deal?" He didn't like even speaking about Granger's friends just then, thoroughly annoyed with how much of them he had been seeing the past few days.

Hermione stared up at him and sighed. "I wish that you would just save me out of the goodness of your heart, but that will never happen Malfoy." Rolling on her side very carefully, she continued, "I won't give into you Malfoy, because you will only make my life a different hell."

Draco raised an eyebrow at that. "And what do you suppose I would ask for Granger?"

"I don't know; make me do all your work? Perhaps I'll have to wait on you each day once we get in here? You would take away my friends and destroy my life. At least this way no one is controlling me. I can die freely, just like I've been telling you."

Draco shook his head, staring at her back. "You're very naïve Granger. Just because you only know me as a cruel bastard doesn't mean I'll make your deal _unbearable_, just not to your liking." He clicked his tongue. "Besides, I can't take your friends away. They'd annoy the hell out of me until I told them what was wrong."

Hermione sighed. "Go Malfoy. Just let me sleep."

He rolled his eyes and walked to her door, glancing back at her as he reached it. "Keep this up and you'll die in your sleep before you can ever save yourself."

* * *

><p>Hermione stared at her wall for a long time. Malfoy had been… almost sincere in the last bit of their conversation. It unsettled her.<p>

He had to be gaining something from his little deal; else he wouldn't be pushing her towards it so much. But what? She couldn't really think of anything he wanted from her, except her misery, so why pester her so?

He was offering to save her life, yet she had too much pride to look him in the eyes and agree. Just a few days ago, just _yesterday _she had been sure she would never even consider his offer. There were too many things that bothered her, too many unanswered questions that she couldn't stand. She had to know what all this entailed before she went jumping to Malfoy to save her life.

_Ironic. I always knew he wanted me to die, so there has to be something amazing in this for him. His deal, whatever it is, can't be good. I can't submit myself to his mercy and wait to see what happens. What if he doesn't tell me anything important until after the deal is made and I can't get out? We would need a contract-_

Contract. The word rang clear in her head. Yes, of course! If she could convince Malfoy to sign a contract with very specific things listed on it, then the deal might be worth it. After all, she would be leaving so many people once she was dead.

A tear slid down her face at that thought. There wasn't a fiber in her that wasn't terrified at the prospect that her life was quickly ending, and she could do nothing on her own. The doctors were useless; Healer Welsh-_she shuddered at his name_-couldn't do anything but prolong her misery. Malfoy was her only option, an option that she had been ignoring for six short days. Even so, they felt like a lifetime.

Her life had been cut short so quickly, that each day seemed to last too long, like life was being drug out. You would think the opposite, really. You would think that she couldn't stop holding onto each day, feeling like time was moving too fast for her. But really, she had been sleeping a lot lately, and had been seeing too much of Malfoy, and it made the day seem longer.

_Perhaps that's not it_, she thought sadly. _Maybe I'm clinging to everything, and trying to believe that each day is long enough._

_But its not. I'm still dying._ She stifled a cry, annoyed that she pitied herself, and pushed her face into the pillows.

* * *

><p>Just after dinner that night, Blaise and Theo came up to see Draco, convinced that he had to be losing his mind. It had been several days since he had actually gotten to do anything outside of his dorm, and although Blaise knew exactly why that was, Theo was still kept in the dark; at least for the time being.<p>

They found him on the couch, staring at nothing. He was twirling his wand in his hand, feet propped up on the table. His lips were turned down into a frown.

Blaise sat down next to Draco on the couch, while a slightly confused Theo sat down on the chair nearby. Blaise raised an eyebrow at his longtime friend. "Trouble?"

Malfoy scowled. "She's infecting my room."

Rolling his eyes, Zabini leaned back against the comfortable piece of furniture. "You worry about that now? It's been several days Draco."

He shrugged. "I hadn't been considering it. I've been to focused on her bloody presence."

"I heard she was sick," Theo cut in, leaning forwards to rest his elbows on his knees. "I couldn't fathom though why her illness is keeping you locked up."

Draco's scowl deepened. "Because she can't fucking take care of herself. You haven't seen her attempt to walk Nott, you have no idea."

Theo raised an intrigued eyebrow. "I think I'd like to see the Mudblood attempt to walk." Grinning, he stood. "Come on then." He turned and abruptly walked towards the bedroom, before Draco's cold grip on his shoulder made him stop.

"Perhaps another time Nott," Draco said evenly. He glared into Theo's dark eyes as he spoke, knowing very well that while he was a Mudblood hater, Theo could be rather extreme at times. If he wanted his deal with Granger, it was best not to send his cruel friends in on her. When Theo tried to turn back to the door, Draco's grip tightened.

Without glancing over his shoulder, Theo slammed Granger's door opened and woke the slumbering girl. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she noticed that a man was wandering towards her bed, Draco's annoyed eyes on his back as he followed.

In the doorway Blaise stood, watching his two friends bother the sick Gryffindor, eyes narrowed. Nott seemed quite interested in Granger, especially for a man who had never taken an interest in Potter's friend.

Nott's eyes ran skeptically up and down the slim girl once. He turned his head back to face a rather angry looking Draco, who's light grey eyes had taken on an almost black color. "Well? Can I see the Mudblood walk?"

Draco rubbed his temples. "For the second time Nott, at a later date." He glanced at Hermione. "Besides, she needs to rest."

Theo raised an interested eyebrow at Draco, and Blaise tilted his head ever so slightly at Draco's words. "Rest? Since when do you give a damn what happens to Mudbloods? Last I checked Malfoy, you-"

Draco waved his hand. "Enough Theo. I didn't let you in so you could bitch. Shut up or get out." He hadn't considered Theo's racist mind when letting the two in, and was rather annoyed at the boy couldn't simply leave Granger alone. After all, he did need hr to look semi-alright when the nurse came by tomorrow.

"Touché," Blaise muttered from the doorway, watching the two bickering boys. His eyes slid to Hermione, who was watching the scene with vague interest. She was slumped against the pillows, looking very small in the queen size bed. Blaise cocked an eyebrow. She even looked sicklier then the last time he had been there, just days before…

"Blaise," Draco finally snapped, glaring daggers at Nott, who seemed rather irritated. "Please show Nott out, and don't bring him back."

Blaise's eyebrow rose higher on his forehead. What had he just missed? The blond who had moments before looked very annoyed but collected now had his wand drawn, fists clenched at his sides as he glared Nott down, who also had a wand out but was glancing at Granger every few seconds. Obviously, in his study of Granger, he had missed something.

Looking from the girls thin wrists to her eyes, he noted that they were full of a dull fire, like she didn't have the strength to start a full out blaze. He sighed inwardly. She was only getting sicker. Malfoy would need to do something, and soon by the looks of things.

Deciding that Theo had obviously said something stupid to Malfoy, Blaise inclined his head and waited for his friend to wander over, eyes having taken on a darker hue like the blonds. Rolling his eyes, Zabini led Nott to the door, not daring to glance back at the two in the room.

"So what did you do now," Blaise asked, shaking his head. Nott was frowning deeply, and had glanced over his shoulder twice during their short walk to glare at Draco.

He rolled his eyes. "Ask Malfoy or Granger for that matter. I'm sure they will be ecstatic to explain." He huffed, before pushing the portrait open and walking out. He had only taken a few steps when Blaise spoke again.

"You really should cut the Mudblood bullshit. Malfoy has been acting rather strangely with that girl lately, and I doubt he takes insults thrown at her lightly."

Theo narrowed his eyes. "Where did you get that bloody idea?"

With a shrug, Blaise grabbed the portrait and smirked. "Patience and observation. If you bothered noticing how Malfoy reacted when you wanted to go see her, you would have noticed an underlying protectiveness."

"Protectiveness? Where, I didn't notice him jumping in front of-"

"It doesn't have to necessarily be a physical action. He didn't want you getting near her while she was weak and resting. Look closer Theo and you will notice these things."

Theo glared. "I don't need to notice anything. If Malfoy wants to wander around being concerned about the Mudblood, then I have no reason to deal with him." A thought passed through Theo's mind then, and his lips pressed into a thin line. "He doesn't fancy that bitch, does he?"

Blaise clicked his tongue. "How should I know? Malfoy has never made his life very public in that aspect. Relationships are something he has always kept to himself."

Theo shook his head and began to wander down the corridor, calling over his shoulder, "It wouldn't matter anyways! She looks good as dead to me."

He shook his head, watching Nott's lean figure retreat down the hall. Whatever Draco's concern was for Theo seeing Granger that way, it wasn't his business, and Blaise had no intention of prying.

At least, not yet.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Did you like? Only a chapter, three at most before Hermione caves and we see the deal. From there, it'll pick up rapidly. But a few more things have to happen first XD Leave a review? All it takes is to press that button...


	6. Just Leave

**HMK: **Well, here's more!

**Jelisha Baby 22: **You'll have to read and see…

**Daddy: **Draco or Hermione? Who are you asking about?

**Eric: **Draco will always be an ass. I'm glad you liked the letters, because throughout this story I believe there will be many. As for Theo, you'll just have to wait and see…

**Justine: **This is near-ish?

**Bambi: **This is kind of soon!

**lulu: **that can be explained later in the story lovely.

* * *

><p><strong>Just Leave<strong>

It was barely eleven on the 14th when Draco found the dorm door being loudly banged upon. He groaned and flipped over, trying to ignore the rude awakening. He pulled a pillow over his head, to block out the loud sound.

The noise increased, and he finally threw the pillow off his head, tired of listening to it. He got up in just his boxers and strode to the front door; sure it had to either be Weasley or Pothead, come to ruin his morning.

_Least I know it's not Blaise and Theo this time._

He swung open the door and glared at the person on the other side, surprised to see that it was Hermione's Healer. Draco raised an eyebrow but didn't move from his position, blocking the doctor's entrance.

_Not exactly who I wished to piss off, but giving the man a heart attack might make up for his horrible timing._

"What," Malfoy snapped out, glaring at the doctor. "Its too early for this."

"Good morning Mr. Malfoy," Welsh said, looking past the blond and into the room. "I've come to check up on Miss Granger."

"You couldn't have waited until a better time," Draco muttered, still not moving. "Its rather early. Besides, I thought that you could just automatically get in here. What happened with that?" He raised an eyebrow and folded his arms, staring at the shorter man.

He smiled, but it seemed strained and forced. "Miss Granger didn't like that idea, and put up a few spells to keep anyone from entering without the password. Shame really." Draco opened his mouth to comment on this, finding it to be a rather strange thing to say, but the doctor kept going. "Anyways, we told you that someone would be by today to check on her, and I had a bit of time today between visits and decided to personally come check on her myself. Miss Day really shouldn't be handling her in her current condition."

"Right," Draco said, not at all believing this. He took a step back. "She's in her bedroom, as usual."

"Thank you Mr. Malfoy," Welsh said as he stepped into the dorm, but Draco was already striding to his room, no longer concerned with Healer Welsh.

* * *

><p>A short time later, Blaise Zabini found himself saying the password to the heads' dorm room, having been called on by Malfoy to discuss something during their lunch. Theo had tried to come along, but Blaise and snuck away while Theo was preoccupied with a Slytherin sixth year, and now found himself walking into the quiet room.<p>

"Oy, Malfoy!"

"Zabini," Draco replied, walking out of the dorms' small kitchen with a cup of pumpkin juice in his hand. Blaise noticed this and glanced around.

"Leave Granger to fend for herself again? Or is she sleeping?"

Draco shook his head. "Her Healer's here again to restate the same thing; she's dying and they can't do shit about it." He sat down on the sofa, glaring at a wall. "She's stubborn."

Blaise smirked lightly. "Still hasn't taken you up on your offer yet? Smart girl."

Draco shifted his gaze to glare at the boy next to him. "You're no help. She is too afraid to trust me to even consider my offer."

He cocked his head. "And what is your offer?"

The blond chuckled, setting his glass aside. "I give her the potion, and let's just say she does a thing or two for me."

Blaise narrowed his eyes. "In that case, I would be cautious too. She doesn't have any reason to trust you, after all."

Draco _tsked_ Blaise. "But who else can she turn to? My family alone knows the cure, and I'm currently in possession of the only written copy of the potion, as well as the incantation. If she plans on living, she'll cave soon before there isn't enough time."

Blaise nodded, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling. When the two were children, they had snuck up to Malfoy's library and found the book, having read it without really understanding it. Among the hundreds of books that had been in the library, that one had always been the most interesting to him.

Why do you need a whole book to write a legend and potion ingredients? Blaise had seen the book countless times since, yet he only saw those two things written on paper.

_Am I missing something?_

"I suppose no one."

Draco nodded confidently. "Exactly."

They sat in silence for some time, each lost in their own thoughts. Draco noted that Hermione's room had gotten very quiet indeed, but didn't think too much on the subject. The Healer's words would've put him to sleep too.

His thoughts jumped all over, from the potion to Hermione's own well-being, strangely enough. _She's dying too quickly. _

There it was again; the daunting feeling that something was amiss more so then her cancer. She should still be only half of what she was. The cancer was moving quicker than his book had said, and it made his eyebrows draw together.

"Blaise?"

"Hmm?"

"Who do you think would want to kill Granger?"

Zabini frowned, looking over at his housemate. "Why would anyone bother killing her? The girl's already on her death bed."

"Yes," Draco mused, looking at the wall thoughtfully. "But her deterioration sped up quickly in the last several days, and she's dying far too fast. The symptoms I see are of someone who would be a few more months down the road. She's going to die, but it's happening too fast. I read something on this Sarcoma process, and the state she's in shouldn't be happening for a few more weeks. And that's just the beginning of the process."

"What do you mean," Blaise asked, tilting his head.

"The amount of weight she's lost in just days is astounding," he muttered, thoughtfully stroking at his chin. "The way everyone is going about this is wrong, and I still can't fathom why they have entrusted me of all people to watch out for her well being instead of an actual Healer. The process of everything is very strange, and I can't begin to wonder enough about her lifeline. It Sarcoma should've had six months more like the book said, then she should still be eating and drinking. Welsh has given me a liquid potion to help her, to go with the strength, but I can't figure out why he didn't do that in the beginning, and why he's not personally addressing the situation."

Blaise frowned. "You're rambling Malfoy."

The blond shrugged, leaning forwards now to rest his elbows on his knees. "I don't really understand any of this, but recently I'm finding myself paying too much attention to her. It's just Granger, after all."

"You're in close proximity with her," his friend said, watching Draco closely for more uncharacteristic signs of something nearing concern. "You can't help but notice things. Anyone else would've caught on by now in your position-hell, I've caught on and I rarely come up here. If you're description of her is accurate then I doubt she has much longer."

"Yes, but why? It still doesn't make sense."

Zabini shrugged again, standing. "Why don't you ask someone? Question Granger, maybe she's been taking something that's secretly coated. Or McGonagall, who might have a better answer for your questions then she's been letting on."

Malfoy nearly snorted. "McGonagall would never tell me anything. She barely tolerates me as it is; remember, I'm not on her good side? She won't give me any answers about all this. I doubt she really even knows."

The other boy shrugged once more. "You never know."

* * *

><p>Hermione curled away from the Healer, relieved he was finally going to leave. Even Malfoy made her skin crawl less, and that's saying something. Welsh's attitude was creepy and borderline uncomfortable, but he had her answers and potions to help her, but still, he remained disturbing.<p>

Welsh nodded as he gathered his things, smiling down at the weak girl. "Pleasure seeing you again Miss Granger. I'll come back with Annabelle in a few days, on the nineteenth. I'm sure Mr. Malfoy can manage to watch you until then. As always, if anything gets worse contact me immediately."

_I'm not even sure I want to contact you, perhaps Annabelle, and she can find me a new, less disturbed doctor. _"Of course," she replied, pushing her thoughts away. She felt drained, and relaxed further into the pillows when she finally saw him heading towards the door. Finally, she could have some piece and quite.

Welsh opened the door, and was surprised to find not only the blond but another boy as well sitting in the living room, seemingly talking about something important. The new boy said something about never knowing, before the conversation stalled at his appearance. Welsh inwardly frowned. He couldn't be disturbing the two that badly.

"Mr. Malfoy," he said, walking to the girl's blond roommate. He didn't have any reason to confide information into the boy before him, and instead chose to use him as a personal owl. "Please let Headmistress McGonagall know that I'll be contacting the girls guardians later tonight, to further discuss her condition. Let her know that there might be a few visitors to this school in a matter of days."

"Do it yourself," he said irritably, rolling his eyes. "I'm not your bloody messenger. You have to get out of my room, so do it on your way out."

"I really need to get back to the hospital and look at a few things," the doctor said, brushing the younger boy off. "Miss Granger's condition seems to be getting worse remarkably fast-"

"You finally noticed then," Draco drawled, rolling his eyes a second time. "She's been getting worse and worse each day, and I wouldn't call this a natural progression, _doctor_."

He shook his head. "That information is not something I can discuss with you at this time, you're not family so-"

"I know," Draco snapped, glaring up at the man. "I am however being confined to my own room because people actually thought this was a good idea. Shouldn't she be at St. Mungo's, where she can really get some help? I'm not doing her any good, and I'm really tired of taking care of someone who is dying in her bed. Take her back with you, because her stay here isn't doing her any good."

Welsh pursed his lips. He definitely disliked Draco Malfoy, if not for his heritage and annoying attitude then this arrogance and belief that everyone else could simply do things for him, like watch the girl. "She is safest here."

"Safest," the other boy said, finally speaking up. "What does safe have to do with anything? Hermione's practically dead at this point, and it's developed into something drastic in a matter of days. Wouldn't safety be someplace she could get some real help, and be comfortable?"

"She must stay at Hogwarts," he bit out, realizing slowly that her roommate had no idea exactly what he was doing for her. Even she didn't know anymore.

"Why? At least take her to the hospital wing," Malfoy snapped again, crossing his arms. "I can do no more for her." _Because she is too damn stubborn to take my help._

Welsh shook his head. "I'm not the one to answer your questions. Try another source, because I have nothing else I can tell you." He stepped around the two young men quickly, reaching the portrait with ease. He had nearly expected Malfoy to stop him halfway. As he opened the door, he turned back to fixate his gaze on the blond. "Once the guardians are told, be prepared for a lot of visitors Mr. Malfoy." And the portrait slammed shut.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Well that made a lot of sense."

Blaise shrugged, standing up." Looks like you'll be watching Granger until she either gives or dies."

He wrinkled his nose. "I certainly hope she doesn't die; I don't want Mudblood stench constantly littering my bedroom once she's gone and I remove that wall."

Blaise clicked his tongue. "Don't be so cruel Malfoy, you're not in her situation. I would struggle to accept any help from you if I were her too. You're not exactly a trustworthy person."

He shrugged, relaxing back into the couch. "Perhaps this is my punishment," he muttered. "For being cruel to her for years, now I have to suffer beside her until she drives me mad."

His friend shrugged. "Perhaps it is."

* * *

><p>Blaise left the dorm shortly after, leaving Draco with time to consider his new realizations.<p>

Hermione's doctor seemed to know more then he was letting on about her location during all this, that's for sure. He couldn't even begin to understand what was so awful that people agreed staying with him was the best option. McGonagall's choice that first day had floored him, and now he simply didn't know what to do. If Hogwarts was safe for Granger, what was after her?

_The person who's trying to end her life. _It was defiantly an option, especially after seeing her deteriorate so much. The girl was nothing but skin and bones, when he had known only two weeks ago that she wasn't horribly underweight. How did she lose so much mass so fast? He couldn't think of a spell or potion that did that, but he was no expert.

_If Snape were here, he might have a fair idea. But he's not, and our new potions teacher has no idea what he's doing. _Frustrated, he threw himself down on the bed, ignoring the fact that he had probably just bothered Granger with the loud noise.

_The other question; who would want to kill Granger? Scratch that, I know multiple people that wouldn't mind seeing her dead, but none that would spend so much time to accomplish it. If any of my family were to kill her, it would be a fast Avada and that's the end. Why drag it out?_

He rubbed his nose. Too many questions, and not enough answers. He wasn't sure she would even be able to tell him anything at this point. The girl slept like a log, and for many hours at a time. He didn't really like the idea of waking her up, and dealing with both a grouchy and sick Gryffindor. That would be a nightmare.

_But what to do?_ He had questions, and he desired a multitude of answers that he couldn't yet see. If McGonagall had any answers, she was more likely to tell Hermione's precious friends than him any day. Which left him with few people to turn to.

He glanced at the book on his bedside table, wondering vaguely if ramming the potion down her throat without a deal would cause it to not work. _Completely possible, but at least I could get some answers._

He sat up quickly and snatched up the book. What was he saying? He wanted a deal with Hermione Bloody Granger, because he knew what he needed from her most, and it was something he could never admit to. He had his snide pieces on the side of his main point, but above all else he needed this.

She was the only person he could think of for the job. She was both the only person forgiving enough to consider helping him and smart enough to possibly make any headway.

Now he just needed to convince her before the girl died, and now before her strange muggle parents appeared, all worried and sad looking. Once they came, it was likely that Granger would be removed permantly and taken home to die, and his last opportunity would be lost.

That wouldn't work.

He had just flipped the book open when a loud, annoying knocking sound came from the entrance. He scowled, wondering just how many idiots would bother him today. One of the few things he enjoyed about watching Granger, was that he didn't have to tolerate all the buffoons in the school that constantly irked his nerves. A bit of a break from all of them was quite pleasurable.

Grumbling, he got up and wandered to the door, insistent upon throwing out the moron who was disturbing him. As he walked past a clock, he was surprised to see it was just after dinner in the great hall, and a bit of the food would be appearing up there soon. How time flies.

Opening the portrait enough to look out, his scowl deepened. "Weasley, she's asleep."

He frowned. "Fine, I don't care whether or not she's asleep, I just want to see her for a minute."

He rolled his eyes. "Come back tomorrow with your little group. I'd rather get you all done at once."

"Open the door Malfoy," he growled, drawing his wand. "I want to see Hermione, and you have no right to deny me of it."

Draco smirked from his side of the wall, very happy he had decided to only open the door a sliver. "And what doesn't? I am supposed to be looking after her, aren't I?"

"We all know you're not doing anything to help her," Ron snapped, still glaring at the other boy. "Now move or I'll hex you."

"Go ahead," Malfoy said with a dismissive shrug. "I would love a reply of second year." He smirked at the fond memory, only to be glared at through narrowed brown eyes.

"Move!" He went to push the blond, but instead found himself being thrown back into the corridor, wand forgotten in his anger. Who did the prick think he was? Hermione was his friend and he would be damned if he let the blond ferret stand in the way. Ron jumped up quickly, picking up his wand and reminding himself that he could use blunt force or magic to get past the slimy git.

Draco had also stepped into the wall, and shut off the entrance to his dorm. The Weasel was wearing on his nerves, and he wondered if the twat would push him enough to actually deserve a good beat down. He wondered vaguely how much shit Granger would give him if he deformed one of her best friends. The thought made him quietly chuckle.

"What are you laughing at," Ron grumbled.

"Oh nothing," he said simply, raising an entertained eyebrow. "It's just amusing to consider the look that will fall on Granger's face when I tell her I've sent one of her dear friends to the hospital ward."

"Good," Ron growled. "Least then McGonagall would have to leave Hermione in the care of someone else. You have to be bad for her health."

"Hmm," Draco replied thoughtfully, sizing the redhead in front of him up. "I never knew you could actually come up with a decent comeback Weasely. I always assumed you were Potter's dumb bodyguard."

"You're the only one who has ever had body guards!"

Draco inwardly flinched at the memory of his late friend, Greg, who died in the war. Crabble and he rarely talked anymore, after the loss of their third counterpart. Draco had grown even closer to Zabini, and Nott, since the war ended, and Crabble rarely looked his way. He nearly missed the oafs, except that they were never good for much but to scare others. At least Zabini could hold a decent conversation.

"So what if I am? At least I had half the mind to obtain some," Draco replied, blocking any emotion from his person. The last thing he needed was to betray any amount of sadness towards his lost friendships. The oafs had been the only people he talked to for several years at Hogwarts, after all. Zabini and Nott were not always available.

Ron looked about to say something, but snapped his jaw closed. "Look Malfoy, move or-"

The yammering redhead paused in his sentence as the two picked up the distinct sound of footsteps coming down the corridor, and paused in their argument to see who was passing by.

Draco watched as McGonagall rounded the corner, looking at the two boys with irritation as she noticed their drawn wands. "Mr. Malfoy! Mr. Weasley, what do the two of you think you are doing?" She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, waiting to see exactly what explanation the two had for her.

Weasley lowered his wand first, the blond following suit. "I came to see Hermione Headmistress, but this git hasn't let me pass by yet."

Minerva glared between the two. "That is no reason to raise wands! Mr. Weasley, you should be happy that Mr. Malfoy is so very protective of your friend."

The Gryffindor felt his jaw unhinge. _Is McGonagall blind? He isn't protective of anyone! _Draco however, simply grinned at McGonagall's obvious mistake and Weasley's appalled expression.

"Furthermore," she continued, before either boy could comment, "I've come to talk to Miss Granger myself, so right now isn't the best time to be visiting your friend Mr. Weasley. Perhaps tomorrow, when Mr. Malfoy _will _let you in." She directed the last bit at Draco, making every word very clear.

"If I think Granger is up for a guest," Draco said, smirking. It wasn't every day that one of the Golden Trio was denied the option to visit one of their own, and he was enjoying the moment. _But why doesn't McGonagall just take him with her? Wouldn't that work just as well, and save me the bother of dealing with this blundering moron tomorrow?_

The Headmistress chose to ignore Draco just then, and looked at the two boys evenly. "Mr. Weasley, please return to your dorm. Come by with Mr. Potter tomorrow if you would like. I'm sure Miss Granger will enjoy the company." She smiled tightly, hoping for the redhead boy to walk on.

Ron grumbled something about 'annoying ferrets' but turned away nonetheless and began walking back towards his dorm, looking back to glare at Malfoy only once. Draco hardly acknowledged the action, and opened the portrait hole by quietly mumbling the password. He wasn't in the mood for any of this.

"Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said as the portrait shut behind them. "Has Miss Granger been receiving any strange mail lately?"

Draco frowned. "No, although all her mail is rather strange to begin with. Probably some bloody love notes between her-"

"That's enough," Minerva said, cutting off the stubborn boy before he went off about Hermione and her friends. That was not the reason why she was here. "I've heard her condition continues to spiral downhill."

"Did you expect much else," he asked. "The disease is incurable, what else do you want? It's simply a matter of time." _Unless she starts bloody thinking._

Minerva nodded, looking away from the student. Draco was no less pleasant to speak with then the last time she had seen him. "Your schoolwork is piling up, and Miss Granger's returned work is none existent. Is anything wrong? Healer Welsh came to my office earlier, discussing something about her condition worsening too quickly."

The boy scowled. "I'm not a bloody expert! But yes, she seems to be decreasing quite rapidly for that horrid man's prediction."

"What's wrong with Healer Welsh," the Headmistress asked, frowning. She watched as the blonds' eyes narrowed very slightly, as though he was considering something in his head.

"Nothing, he is just quite annoying," Draco said, keeping his reply vague. He always seemed quite happy after seeing Granger, and cool towards him. _Probably just feels intimidated by me_, he reasoned.

She nodded, not considering his statement too deeply; they had other things to discuss. "Mr. Malfoy, I need you to keep a close eye on Miss Granger's mail."

He smirked at this. "You're giving me the right to look through Granger's mail? Intriguing, but what would be so important that I'm allowed to? You don't exactly like me McGonagall, so why give me rights to invade your star student's privacy."

Minerva clenched her jaw, speaking through tight teeth. "It's a necessary precaution. You are not under any circumstances being granted my complete permission to read the mail, heavens no. You are to _only _look at the name on the front, or initials. Anything that seems amiss, you bring to me."

"Of course," he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. _What could be so very important about a dying girl's mail? I'll never understand these Gryffindors. _But of course, he had no intention at all to bring the mail to her unopened. It would do well though to annoy the stubborn girl, knowing some of her cute little secretes before her passing. If she died, he would at least find an entertainment value along the way.

McGonagall studied him closely. Of course, the boy would open those letters, she had no doubt. And the shattering truth she feared he would find would be devastating. _I only hope he doesn't write something too crude for the boy to stomach. _

This wasn't something she particularly liked, but there was a very big reason why Hermione Granger was in Draco Malfoy's care. She would need to owl St. Mungo's though, and let them know more frequent visits were required. Miss Granger only had a few weeks, maybe less, before whatever she was getting killed her.

_Cancer's only part of the problem here. I just hope their beliefs were correct about Mr. Malfoy, or we've endangered the girl further._

"Very good," she said, turning towards the bedroom door. "I will need to speak with Miss Granger privately now, if you'll excuse me."

He nodded curtly and sat on the couch, wondering exactly what he was looking for in those letters. _Best to read any and every single one that comes in here._

* * *

><p>"Miss Granger," Minerva said simply, walking in with a small smile on her face when she saw that the girl was awake. She did a wandless spell to keep their conversation private, especially from the nosy Slytherin she had just left in the living room. "It's good to see you're up."<p>

Hermione nodded weakly, her once proud head held up high, but now it slumped to the side a bit as she maneuvered the contents of her bed, as though she barely had the energy to keep it up.

_Its worse then I feared! This is absurd. They must go to St. Mungo's immediately. So long as Malfoy is within her proximity, she will not be harmed further. _Minerva frowned, remembering why the two were stationed in such an dysfunctional place once again. _If only there was a way._

She reached out a hand and grabbed up her favorite student a glass of water, holding it out for her to take. She took it in her hands and drank a few sips, cringing as the liquid touched her strained throat. Everything hurt, and the pain in her shoulder was a dull ache now from when she had rolled over it earlier. She smiled a faint smile at Minerva, grateful for the relief on her throat.

"Hello Professor," she said, giving her the best smile she could muster. It broke Minerva's heart to look at one of her students in that way, and one of her favorite students at that.

"Hermione," she replied, giving a tight smile in return. She couldn't believe that she was here, about to tell the girl the awful news. It wasn't like the girl could be moved, not until they found out who this was and could fix it. Even then, there was no haven waiting for her at St. Mungo's. She opened her mouth to ask the girl how she was doing, but couldn't make herself do that either. It was fairy obvious, and Granger would put on her brave face, and tell her that she thought she was getting better, when in actuality anyone could see that the girl was only half alive. It was painful to look at.

_At least, Draco Malfoy ended up being the one for this task instead of Potter or Weasley. They would've been too blind with concern for Hermione to truly help her. It's only too bad that I wont ever get the chance to explain any of this to her._

"Has Mr. Malfoy been treating you well," she finally asked, unwilling to bring up any other topic. Instead, she found herself looking at the girls terribly thin arms.

"Tolerable," she tried, not sure what to tell the Headmistress. Malfoy was an ass, and he had his own opinion on everything, he pushed for her to take his deal and wanted whatever he could get out of it. He was an annoying prick and always seemed to have a snide comment, but at least Malfoy didn't care. He could watch her die, and she knew she would never receive the pitying looks that Ron and Harry sent her way.

"Good," Minerva said, looking at the girl still. Her face was wrinkled up slightly, like she was thinking. _Miss Granger is always thinking._

"I'm afraid I come with some bad news," she said, looking the headboard now.

Hermione's head snapped up as quickly as her body would allow. What else could they possibly tell her? "What is it?"

The Headmistress sighed. "It is against school rules to have a Head that cannot fulfill head duties. Since you do need a lot of bed rest until you are better Miss Granger"-here she took an unnecessary breath and tried to calm herself, it was all very upsetting-"I am afraid I can no longer keep as the Head Girl of Hogwarts."

Hermione felt the nerdy, schoolgirl part of her mind deflate a bit, and want to argue, saying that she could still get better and that she would work harder, but it was immediately shut up. McGonagall was right. She couldn't attend her classes, and it had been nearly two weeks since she left the room for anything besides her health. She was a rather useless lump right now, and it would only continue to worsen, unless she took Malfoy's-

She immediately cut that thought off. Thinking about that would only stir more emotions and cause her mind to wander. No, she was in a dazed conversation with the Headmistress of Hogwarts right now, and she needed to try and focus.

She nodded her head once, ignoring the amount of effort it took to do so. She didn't have the strength to argue with this woman about her position at school, when the memory of possibly getting better was banished from her head. There was only one path for help here, and she couldn't waste anymore time considering it like a fool.

Minerva didn't like how the girl immediately took this. She was accepting it, which meant she was giving up. The woman pursed her lips. Hermione Granger was never one to give up easily, yet here she was surrendering. Granted, McGonagall would never understand the pain that Sarcoma caused someone, but her immediate agreement with whatever had fallen from her mouth worried her. There was no retaliation like she wanted no argument that she could do this like the brainy girl normally it. It was terrifying.

The woman clasped her hands together. This wasn't going to go well.

* * *

><p>Draco fingered the page he was reading. The content was interesting to say the least, but nothing he hadn't already figured out.<p>

_The cause of Ewing's sarcoma / pPNET remains unknown. _

_In young people, the development of the tumour appears to be in some way related to periods in life with rapid growth; hence the average for tumour development is 14-15 years. The relationship to growth may also be part of the explanation why Ewing's sarcoma is slightly more common in boys than in girls. However, Ewing's sarcoma remains an extremely rare tumour in all groups of the population, and there is no extra cause for concern in rapidly growing teenagers. The relationship between bone growth and Ewing's sarcoma is thought to be due to an increased vulnerability of rapidly growing cells to damage caused by chance or by as yet unidentified factors. _

_Sometimes the person with Ewing's sarcoma or the parents relate a previous injury or trauma to the development of the tumour. However, medical research has not found any proven relationship between such injury and the risk of subsequently developing Ewing's sarcoma. _

Trauma. Granger hadn't grown since last year, he was damn sure of it. No, if anything, she had shrunk to a skeleton of a human. So Trauma, trauma had to be the reason for the original tumor, right?

_Well, maybe. _He frowned, and flipped through some more pages, curious about something now. _Why did it develop so quickly? Even from the time I found her in the corridor, its gotten bad far too quickly. _

He found a paragraph further into the book that spiked his interest on the topic, and quickly began reading.

_Ewing's sarcoma spreads when tumour cells enter the blood supply and are circulated to other parts of the body where they may form secondary tumours ("metastases"). Chemotherapy is given to kill these circulating tumour cells. The most common sites for secondary tumours are the lungs and other bones. Tumour cells may also spread via the lymphatic system (this is a network of lymph glands around the body). Also, tumours can spread by direct growth of the primary tumour to form "skip metastases", though these are rare._

_Oh great, _Draco thought. _It spreads like any normal cancer. And normal cancer has a progression that takes time to become fatal, not this instant killing machine Granger has encountered. _He rubbed the bridge of this nose, frustrated. He was getting nowhere with this, and looking over information he already knew.

He knew it had to be Trauma after all the time he had been stuck in the damn dorm with her. He also knew how cancer typically traveled. Draco was looking over information he already knew, simply hoping to find a reason as to why Granger was dying so quickly, and taking away all this time to manipulate her. It was beyond frustrating.

The old bat was in Granger's room right now, discussing only Merlin knew what with her. He honestly didn't care; it gave him some time to consider what Minerva had asked him to do. _I need you to keep a close eye on Miss Granger's mail. _What could possibly be so interesting about her mail?

It puzzled him. After all, he had a reputation the entire school knew about, and the Headmistress should have been wise enough to realize he was not the best candidate to do this. It worked perfectly fine for him if it gave him something to blackmail with, but he couldn't fathom why she even thought this was a good idea. There were always Pothead and the Weasel, so why didn't she choose one of them? Granger was obviously closer to them then him.

_Perhaps that's the entire point, to have someone who could care less do the dirty work. Am I supposed to be emotionally detached from her or something?_

Well, none of this was making sense anymore. He glanced back at the book.

Sarcoma was some nasty business, even when it progressed naturally, and didn't take these drastic jumps like Granger's was. It was obviously being tampered with, and Malfoy wasn't sure how well his potion would cope with the interference. So long as an outside force was messing with the girl, it would make his job difficult. When, not _if_ but _when_, Granger caved and asked for his help, he needed to act fast. The potion would take six days to get ready for her alone. At this rate, those six extra days could mean her death. He groaned.

_There is just no way I'm going to have time to make any sort of deal, let alone make this fucking potion. She's fucked. _

He looked back at the book, and began to read again, looking for any last bits of information that he could possibly take in.

_Peripheral primitive neuroectodermal tumours (PNET, or more correctly pPNET) start in bone or soft tissues. Like Ewing's sarcoma (ES) they are composed of small-blue-round cells. They differ from ES in that they show more developed features of cells associated with the nervous system. _

_Genetic analyses show that both pPNET and ES share a unique genetic alteration, an exchange of material between chromosomes 11 and 22. Also, ES and pPNET have a similar response to chemotherapy. Based on these and other similarities Ewing's sarcoma and pPNET are regarded as closely related members of the same family of tumours. _

_Treatment for pPNET is the same as that for Ewing's sarcoma. The answers in this FAQ apply to both Ewing's sarcoma and pPNET. _

_Note: __brain tumours are also frequently referred to as primitive neuroectodermal tumours (PNET). These are very different to pPNET of bone; they do not share the same 11;22 translocation and require different treatments. _

He frowned. That didn't seem to do him any good. He flipped through several more pages before a new chapter caught his attention. It was quite short, but diagnosis outcomes were typically important.

Chapter XI: Diagnosis Delays:

_Delays in diagnosis of Ewing's sarcoma are extremely common. The average duration of symptoms is 20 weeks and for patients with tumours of the pelvis it is not uncommon for patients to have had symptoms for one year or more. _

_The first symptoms experienced by most patients are rather non-specific pain which gradually becomes more severe and persistent. Many patients will have been investigated for a variety of conditions and some will have had treatment including operations which have not resolved the problem. Up to 25% of patients will have had an X-ray which has either not been of the right part of the bone or has failed to detect the abnormality in its early stages. _

_No-one has ever proven that an actual delay in diagnosis has directly affected prognosis for Ewing's sarcoma. This is somewhat surprising as tumour size has been shown to be associated with overall survival in that smaller tumours tend to have a better outlook. The link between tumour size and duration of symptoms is however not clear. some patients will present very late with small tumours, whilst others will have a very short history and yet have a very large tumour. _

_Whilst tumour size is an important prognostic factor the actual responsiveness to chemotherapy is probably more important and this is not necessarily related to tumour size in any way. Some tumours will always be sensitive to chemotherapy, whilst others will not. _

_The presence of metastatic disease is another poor prognostic factor and whilst metastases are more common in large tumours, there is no clear cut relationship that identifies when metastases will be released and become detectable. _

He shut the book. It was a vaguely interesting array of facts, but they were getting him nowhere. Besides, Hermione's bedroom door had just opened, and the old bat was coming back out.

She looked at Malfoy, her eyes blank and dead. "You won't be bothered much longer I suspect."

He blinked at her words. _Well, she's obviously picked up on Granger's condition. _He opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off, eyes staring straight ahead.

"I ask that you allow her friends entrance from here on out Mr. Malfoy, because I fear she wont be with us much longer." He wondered vaguely why she was telling him this as she continued. "I'll be having Miss Granger moved back soon to St. Mungo's, after a visit from Welsh the day after tomorrow. I will explain to you anything involving that when the day comes."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

She shook her head and walked to the door. "Patience Mr. Malfoy, you don't have long to wait." Draco locked his jaw as she opened the portrait whole and hurried out, as though afraid of saying something that she shouldn't.

_Crazy bitch. _He looked back at the family book once more, before picking it up and wandering back to his own bedroom, ignoring the girl he could see in her bed, who appeared asleep.

* * *

><p>Hermione watched Malfoy pass by her bedroom without a second glance, right on into his. He shuffled a few things, before she heard the sound of shoes dropping onto the floor. She sighed.<p>

Her cheeks were wet. The conversation hadn't gone well, and now she knew that things would change in a few days after Welsh's visit. All she knew was that McGonagall wanted her to return to St. Mungo's for a comfortable stay; the place she should've been in all along.

_None of this makes any sense. _

She sighed, relaxing into the pillows, feeling too tired for her own good. None of this was right, and it wasn't supposed to happen this way.

She was half awake when she made her final decision. She knew what she was going to do.

* * *

><p><strong>an: **Remember, this story does obviously have magic in it, so there will be a few differences between this cancer and the true Sarcoma, like the progression process. The quick progression of this disease will be explained later on in the story. As for any other questions on Sarcoma, ask them in your review! The disease has been pretty much explained, but if any of you need I can tell you all about the website I've gotten the information from, which is listed below as well.

**Disclaimer: **J.K Rowling, of course, made this amazing world. The paragraphs about the disease are off a website called cancerindex.


	7. Your Presence Still Lingers Here

**A/N:** I'm deeply sorry to every anonymous reviewer out there! No mater what I did, the document doesn't put your names in, so the responses don't make sense. Keep reviewing though please everyone! I WILL respond to everyone next week, no matter what!

* * *

><p><strong>Your Presence Still Lingers Here<strong>

* * *

><p>Malfoy awoke on Monday, October 15, feeling rested but highly irritable. He had slept the night through, but his dreams consisted of nothing but the strange things he heard the day before. The old bat, the Healer and this mystery messenger all seemed to know something he didn't, and from what he could gather, it affected him more than they were letting on. It was terribly annoying.<p>

He wandered out of his bedroom, yawning, noticing that there were two owls waiting around the window of the living room. One was his mother's owl, a deep brown with startling eyes and a long beak, the other a dull brown that he had never seen. Walking over, he opened the window to the brisk October winds, letting the two birds come in. He picked up some treats and fed the two, before shooing the second owl away.

His mother's bird followed the blond back into his own room, where he discarded Hermione's letter. It was defiantly intriguing, but it was too early in the morning to get his mind all worked up. No, best to leave her letter for later.

He sat down, and opened his own mail.

_Draco~_

_I plan to host our Ball again this year. Without all that war rubbish taking up our home, it's time we celebrate. The Ball will be on New Year's Eve, as always. I suspect you will bring Miss Parkinson, since she was your date to the last. Your father we will be resituated for the event, have no worries. And if you dare try to get out of this event, I will hunt you down myself. It's time we reinstate ourselves into the high class Wizarding Society, and you being absent from the party will do no good. _

_Before you get too happy, this is not the only reason I have owled. Draco I don't want you attempting that magic under any circumstances. If done incorrectly the results can be horrible, such as death like I've said in my previous letters. The girl is better off without your attempt; your father could never have done the spell, even at his best. It's simply very hard, and you don't need to kill her._

_I ask again though my son, who is she? It cannot be any of your friends, because I talk to their parents too often to not know. Who is she? Don' take advantage of her while she is weak Draco just let this idea go and it'll be better for the both of you._

_I will need you home as soon as the Holiday vacation begins. It's mandatory that we have everything perfect before people begin to come over on Christmas, especially our family, and I need you at your best. Do tell Pansy about this, I certainly like that girl. _

_~Mother_

He rolled his eyes. The last thing he wanted to do was take Pansy of all people to the Ball. The idea of dancing with her made him a bit sick. She was a phenomenal friend at times, but sometimes she got so clingy and slutty he simply couldn't stand it. Honestly, the girl could have some self-respect and chase after someone who was actually chasing back.

But before responding with haste, he folded the letter again, deciding he needed to think of a reply. He would have to come up with an excuse to not bring Pansy along, although he was certain that he would end up seeing her that night anyways. _I'll have to find a date_. The thought made him from (flinch?). Draco Malfoy did not, under any circumstances, _date. _It was a waste of time at his age. When he decided to try it, he would. But until then the Slytherin was just fine with being single.

As for the magic, he had no intentions of stopping his assault on Granger's mind, hoping to persuade her into seeing his reasoning behind all of it. Yes, his father had never been able to do the curse, and had never really attempted either. The incantation hardly worked, making the potion utterly useless to make. But he was missing one key element that the elder Malfoy had tried to pass over; Black family blood.

He was a Malfoy, not a Black. Draco was, because of his mother. It gave him the upper hand. And Draco knew that Narcissa would absolutely never attempt something like this. It wasn't in her nature.

He glanced at the clock. It was almost ten, and he should probably go check on the girl next door. After all, if she died it would be all his fault. _At least, in everyone _else's _eyes. _

Draco stalked back to the door and opened it, peering into Granger's adjoined room. She was awake, staring at the ceiling in the morning light, and he took this as an ok to walk into her bedroom. As he neared the bed, she spoke.

"What is it Malfoy?"

He shrugged, although he had no idea if she was able to see it. "I've come to make sure you're still living."

"If you can qualify this as living."

He clicked his tongue and walked over so he was in her line of vision, shaking his head. "Have you just realized this? Granger it's not living if all you do is waste away in a bed."

She pursued her lips, and looked away, so he continued. "But of course, you could've had this fixed by now if you had taken me up on my offer." Silence. Time passed slowly, and he spoke again in a matter of seconds when her face remained the same. "Well, since you seem unable to talk now, I'll just leave you to wallow in your misery."

He turned and walked away; annoyed that he couldn't even get a rise out of her today. As he walked through the door, he heard her mutter something and turned back. "What is it Granger?"

She was biting her lip, seemingly horribly uncomfortable with the topic. "What is your offer?"

He smirked, realizing what she was talking about. "Oh, you mean my deal Mudblood?" He walked halfway back to her bed, before pausing and crossing his arms confidently. "Is that what we're going to talk about then?"

She swallowed hard. "It appears so."

The blond chuckled, walking to the food of her bed, leaning against one of the posts. "It took you long enough to come to your senses. Good thing too. Too much longer, and you'd be out of time."

Her eyes widened a bit. "How would you know something like that?"

"I have my ways Granger, and a better resource then any of those blasted Healer's can ever give you." He smirked at her, watching her thin face with amusement.

"What do you want," she asked bluntly, in no mood to delay. He would be an ass either way, and she had no intention of being bothered by him for too long. She would get the same result either way, so she had absolutely no reason to dance around the problem.

He clicked his tongue. "Pushy I see. Now Granger, who says that I know _exactly _what I'm going to use you for?"

"If you're just going to turn me into your personal slave, let me die. It's not worth that."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. I hardly want you following me around all the time. I admit, it could be fun to make you do _whatever I please_, but it would become tedious after a while. I can't stand you for that long."

Hermione huffed lightly, trying to not upset anything in her body. It hurt a lot this morning, and she considered asking Malfoy for one for her pain potions. But no, they were discussing an extremely important matter, and it wouldn't be interrupted by that. Besides, it was close enough for her to reach once he left. She didn't need his help with something _that _simple.

"Then what is it Malfoy? Name your price, so I can shoot you down and come up with something more agreeable."

His expression hardened a bit. "Don't think you have the upper hand here, Granger. I have your cure; all you have is hope that I'll find something suitable in return. You don't have the cards here, so don't tell me you'll be shooting my options down because trust me, I won't give you much room to change things."

She was frowning now. "This isn't fair Malfoy."

"Life's not fair Mudblood, so get over it."

"That doesn't give you a right to make this as hard for me as possible!" Her voice cracked as her volume rose, and Draco was around the bed in an instant, getting in her face.

"I have the right to do _anything _I like Granger, and if you push me, I'll just make things more and more difficult."

She stared back into his eyes, fighting her drowsiness. This argument was already tiring her out, and it was beyond frustrating. "How much more difficult can they be Malfoy? What are you going to make me do, _walk_?" Her tone cut down his anger a bit, reminding him that all he had to do was give her a shove and she would be screaming in pain.

"We'll have to see, won't we, Mudblood?"

Hermione frowned further. "Well Malfoy, if you can't even make up your bloody mind about what you want, perhaps you shouldn't-"

"Don't be stupid Granger, perhaps bed rest has just made you an idiot," he snapped. "I will know exactly what I want from you by the time my potion is ready for you."

"Potion? It's a potion?"

Draco frowned now. "Of course it's a potion!"

"Well, just because you say something about a cure doesn't necessarily mean a potion, there are lots of cures that are nothing more than spells-"

"Granger," he growled. "Shut up." She opened her mouth to reply, but clamped it shut instead as he continued. "You won't be a bloody slave, I'm certain of that; no matter how much I could enjoy it. But no, I don't have a premade list for you and I won't sit here trying to make one on the spot. You can either accept that you have to wait a few days, or you can keep bugging me and I'll refuse to help you."

She pursed her lips. "You can't use a person's life against them Malfoy. That's truly evil."

He shrugged. "I couldn't give a fuck less what you think of it Granger." His grey eyes traveled around the room. "I better leave you now, so I can begin getting ready."

She wrinkled her nose. "What? That's all? You know that I'm going to take up your deal and that's it? No snide comments-"

Draco sighed. "No Granger, not right now anyways. Because your stubborn attitude has delayed you from saying anything sooner, my time is cut short, and the more time I waste here blathering with you the less time I have to perfect the potion. It's not a terribly long potion, but it will take time and I have to have it completed quickly, just in case your bloody body decides to give up and die early."

She flinched a bit at his words. "You don't have to put it like that."

"Don't I though?" His frown had turned into a scowl, and he was rather impatient to start working. "Now leave me be Granger, I have work to do." He turned briskly on the heel of his shoe, leaving out the bedroom door before she could say anything else.

She stared helplessly after his retreating figure. He had been the dominate voice in that entire conversation, and it unsettled her. Just wait until after he cured her though, she'd give him a piece of her mind!

A dim thought passed through her mind, one that she didn't want to consider. _What if it's not really a cure?_

* * *

><p>Draco Malfoy grinned as he walked back to his bed. The girl was actually agreeing to this deal, what little she knew of it. He could hardly believe that her pride had let her take up his offer, and after her pushing it off for so long, he hadn't even expected her to anymore. But now, he had her in her in this deal, and he had no intention of letting her take the potion until after she agreed to his demands. How else was he to ensure that he got what he wanted?<p>

But the question was, what did he want? He had a multitude of ideas, but couldn't begin to decide which the best was. What would make her most uncomfortable? What would be most beneficial to him, and give him the greatest entertainment value? The possibilities were endless!

He slowly shook his head. He could celebrate later; right now he had to worry about making the potion. He had no idea what was required, only that she could take it on the seventh day, which meant he needed to start now before she did die.

_And before she's stationed back at St. Mungo's. Once she's back there, there will be nothing more I can do. Her Healer would be too suspicious in such close confines, hell, he'll be suspicious anyways. _

Draco rubbed his head. It would become extremely complicated to explain everything, and he had no intention at all of helping her, so long as she didn't attempt to tell the world about the Black Family Cure. That simply wouldn't do.

He reached over for the damn book, flipping through. The potion lay in the back of it, on the last page. The incantation, just a few short words, was on the opposite page. Unlike many complicated spells, there was nothing long about this one, and he was very grateful, considering this one was in another language.

He wrinkled his nose as he studied everything. Mother was right, he would have to make a trip into Hogsmeade, maybe even Diagon Alley to get a couple of the ingredients, which meant making up an excuse to leave campus, or going out without permission. Either way, he would have to plan his departure well. He couldn't just allow Granger to die now that he had finally gotten her to agree. That wouldn't do him any good.

He didn't want to leave her with Zabini exactly, because he might need the Italian's help to obtain what he needed. It seemed he would be using Hermione's friends for his own personal gain.

Sure, they were going to ask way too many questions when they next saw her, but he had no intentions of sticking around and being accused of being the reason she looked so bloody awful. That was something she could handle all on her own.

But he still needed to figure out how to explain her sudden recovery.

_This is fucking complicated._

Draco ran his hands through his hair. How was he supposed to get to Diagon Alley for that final ingredient? He could simply call into certain stores and order what he needed, but actually going to get them was another thing. Some of those things, he simply didn't trust to be owled to him because of the rarity. So how was he to obtain these things?

An idea struck through his head. He couldn't be the only one who knew about this little curse. With a smirk spreading across his features, he picked up a quill and parchment, writing a hasty letter that needed to be delivered immediately.

_I hope this works._

* * *

><p>Malfoy did not return to her room until late that night, and it was only to tell her he would have her potion in roughly a week's time.<p>

The following day, Hermione found herself drawn from sleep by the nose of arguing in the living room. She lay in her bed, lights still out but the day's sunlight streaming through the windows. One of the voices was obviously Malfoy's, but the other sounded eerily like Welsh. She shuddered, but stopped immediately when pain raked through her body, the strange movement of her limps causing it to rocket through her body.

It was turning out to be an unpleasant morning.

She listened a few minutes longer, finally beginning to grow tired when the door was thrown open, and Welsh walked in, her roommate at his heels. Both men looked rather irritated, and she could only imagine what was going on between them.

Her Healer walked to the bedside and sat in a nearby chair, smiling at her. Draco turned on the light as he entered and stopped at the end of her bed, shoving his hands into the pockets of the pants he wore.

"Good Morning Miss Granger," Welsh said brightly, smiling at her. "How are you feeling this morning?"

She knew the sugar coated greeting was only a cover to display towards Malfoy, and she almost hoped he would catch onto how fake it was. Instead of replying, she managed a faint shrug and looked away from both of her guests, to a nearby mirror on her wall.

Welsh frowned a bit, upset that she wouldn't respond. He had no intentions of keeping Malfoy in the room for long, but didn't want the blond asking questions while he remained. It was entirely possible after their stint in the living room that the blond would be annoying and press anything he could against the older man's judgment. But, this had been a joint decision.

"Your condition has gotten worse in a remarkably short amount of time," Welsh continued.

"Whatever gave you that idea," snapped the blond, shaking his head. "You mustn't pay her a lot of attention when you visit if it's only come to your attention now."

The older man turned and glared at Draco, annoyed that he had to butt in. "Mr. Malfoy, I am doing my job, and it has come to my attention and reasoning that Miss Granger is too sick to continue to stay at Hogwarts."

"What," Hermione croaked before Draco could say anything. "You're taking me back to St. Mungo's?"

He nodded. "It will be a few days-"

"How many days," Draco snapped, his eyebrows knitting together.

Welsh frowned. "It will be no more than a week. This would usually be done immediately, but special precautions have to be taken before she is moved."

"Precautions?" He hated that word, it reminded him too much of the Headmistresses comments the day before. What was all this shit about precautions and safety? "If she is truly that sick and any of you are actually concerned, you would take her there immediately. What kind of precautions would you even have to make?"

The Healer took a breath, attention now focused solely on the other man in the room, Hermione entirely forgotten, much to her displeasure. "That is none of your concern Mr. Malfoy," he snapped, eyes getting dark.

"On the contrary, I think it is." He relaxed against one of Granger's bedposts, meeting the man's harsh but not intimidating gaze. "I've been banished to my room to look after her, and told to watch out for Granger. I think I have a right to know things, like why you won't move her if it's better for her health."

Hermione tilted her head at this. She did not think under any circumstances that he had a right to know anything, but was very interested in finding out the reasoning herself. Malfoy was apparently pushing for them to take her, when she was sure it would only cause complications with him getting a deal out of her cure. It made no sense at all, and the bookworm in her was itching to ask why.

Welsh turned to talk to her instead now, leaning in closer then was professional, and spoke in a low voice, hoping perhaps that the blond wouldn't hear. "It's not at my disclosure to reveal any of those things right now. Trust me Miss Granger, you'll be back in my care in a few days, and you will not have to deal with your roommate anymore."

"I'm not that bad," Draco snapped, watching the scene with a raised eyebrow. It was most unprofessional of Healer Welsh to get so close and personal with his patient, especially one that was so very much younger then he was.

The man frowned and looked back and Malfoy. Hermione immediately scooted the small bit she could away from him on the pillows, happy that Draco's voice was enough to apparently remind the man of where he was. He straightened out, and once again spoke to the blond as though she wasn't even there.

"Mr. Malfoy, if Miss Granger's condition doesn't improve by the end of the week when we have her room prepared, she will be moved back to St. Mungo's."

"And I ask you again, Welsh, why she cannot simply go back now? It seems a bit odd if you ask me, keeping a patient who obviously is in need of a real medical facility, in her dorm bedroom."

Welsh shrugged. "It is not at my disclosure to reveal such things Mr. Malfoy, just as it is not for you to understand."

He frowned. The man might as well have been pushing him in the direction with blunt force. If he didn't want Malfoy to understand, then he shouldn't have even mentioned it.

_Sounds like a trick message if you ask me._

Malfoy smirked, tilting his head at Healer Welsh. "If that's what you want me to believe."

* * *

><p>About an hour later, Welsh left, after a lot more arguing between the two men and very little information having been passed along to Hermione. Draco did not see him out, and waited until he saw the man disappear out the portrait hole, having watched from Hermione's bedroom entrance.<p>

Once Welsh was gone, he turned to Hermione, who was giving him an odd look. "I'll be needing to go find Blaise."

She frowned. "What?" That was not anything she needed to talk to him about, yet here he was, bringing up random topics.

"I need to go out," he said simply, not bothering to look at her. "I have to pick up something if you would like to get better, and there is no way I am about to go running off to _your _friends."

Her frown deepened. "Why are you bothering? You were telling him to take me back today-"

"Because I find it rather odd that he can talk about precautions, when there is nothing dangerous around and I find it very curious that more then just one person has allowed Gryffindor's Golden Princess to suffer in a tower room with a Slytherin. Doesn't seem very common, does it Granger?"

"No-"

"And I find it extremely odd that they don't have you at St. Mungo's like you obviously need. I never had any intention of getting you sent there, since you obviously weren't going to be taken back by your Healer. I'm simply looking for answers to my questions."

She pursed her lips. "And you'll leave me in this tower alone to die then?"

He rolled his eyes. "Hardly. I've sent him an owl, he'll come up at lunch. I'm not about to chance you dying on me while I go to look for him. I'll never hear the end of it if I do."

Hermione frowned. "You're concern is overwhelming."

He shrugged. "What do you expect Granger? Fear in my eyes at the thought of you dying while I'm away? It'll ruin some nice plans, and the entire point of my trip, but I won't cry over you."

She closed her eyes, slowly feeling tiredness slipping into her system after the long discussion with Welsh. "I never expected you too."

"Good. You won't see me again until later towards dinner."

"Sounds good to me ferret."

He quirked an eyebrow. _Ferret? The girl's dying, tired enough to sleep and she has the nerve to throw a ferret comment into this conversation? Unbelievable! _Instead of replying, Draco turned and left the room, deciding it would do him no good just then to yell at her, no good at all.

Once out, he spotted an owl outside their window, tapping furiously on the glass. He walked over and let the bird in, reading the angry letters across the front of the letter it was carrying. In big bold letters, it screamed, Malfoy!

He smirked, picking up the parchment and giving the bird a little treat. That had gotten a response faster then expected, but he wasn't going to complain. After all, things were picking up speed rather fast, and the witches hasty reply could only do him good at this point.

* * *

><p>Blaise Zabini arrived at the beginning of lunch as planned, Theodore Nott in tow. Apparently, he had been unable to rid himself of the other Slytherin and had simply given up. Draco in turn, drug Blaise into his room alone.<p>

"I have to go buy some things from Diagon Alley," he muttered, pacing.

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "And how do you plan to do that? We are nowhere near Diagon Alley; the closest thing you have is Hogsmeade."

"Yes Zabini, I have already figured that out," he growled, turning to face his friend. The cloak he had just pulled on lay well over his body, and Malfoy glanced in the mirror behind the Italian. Even under stress, he could manage to look good.

It was bloody fantastic.

"And what is it that you must get from Diagon Alley," he questioned, rolling his eyes at the blond as he smirked at his distant reflection.

"Potion ingredients," Draco said, making sure to drop some extra coins into his robe pocket as he walked to the door.

"Potion ingredients," Blaise echoed, annoyed. "You owled me to come watch Granger so you could go buy school supplies you aren't even using?"

"They're not for school," Draco replied, reaching for the door. "A few, special ingredients for her cure can't be found in many places."

"Like what," Blaise asked, waiting for his friend to open the door. "Do enlighten me." The blond was quite for a moment, and Blaise continued talking. "Don't get me wrong Draco, I think it's good that you're actually bothering to save her, but I'm curious about this cure of yours."

Draco glanced back over his shoulder. "Dragon parts." He pushed open the door, only to find Nott watching through Hermione's own doorway at the sleeping girl. He frowned. "Nott, that's terribly disturbing."

Theo glanced away from the girl, having been studying the thinness in her arms during the other Slytherin's absence. He shrugged, looking up into Malfoy's grey eyes. His pale features seemed illuminated in the light drifting through the curtains, giving him an unnatural look. The other boy scowled. Leave it to Malfoy to look unnaturally frightening and alluring at the same time.

"She looks worse," he noted with a sneer.

The blond rolled his eyes and shut the girl's door firmly, glancing back at Blaise. "I asked you before Zabini to not bring Nott back to my dorm."

"Have a problem with me Malfoy," he snapped, glaring at the boy as he turned back. "What's your deal? It's Granger! So what if the bitch dies?"

_Well, if she dies I certainly don't get anything for all my hard work to cure her! _"Nott, I won't have you bothering my roommate. You may see her now while she's sleeping, but she's still completely bitchy when she is awake. If you can't refrain from bothering her I'll just kick you out, it'll be less of a hastle for me _after _the two of you depart."

Theo narrowed his eyes. "You seem concerned about the fire of a dying Mudblood. She can't be that bad."

Draco rubbed his temples. "Nott, enough." He had no patience for Nott and his apparent desire to see Granger crumble to the floor helplessly. Yes, the idea was interesting, but he didn't need Theo standing her up so one of her bones broke when she stepped wrong because yes, it often happened. He grabbed the other man's arm and removed him from the bedroom doorway, dragging him back into the living room. He asked a lot about his feelings towards Granger, which were nonexistent. It was truly rubbing Draco the wrong way.

Nott turned and glared at Malfoy as the three walked into the living room. "Got a problem with me watchin your Mudblood?"

"She's hardly mine," he snapped, ready to throw Theo out, but now, Draco hesitated. He wanted nothing more then to cast a spell and change the password, so Nott could no longer come into the dorm. But, with Nott here, Zabini would have to keep him occupied, which would keep the both of them away from Granger to question. There were too many little complications right now, and the last thing he felt like dealing with was another person who only offered problems instead of answers.

He turned from Theo before he could reply, and looked pointedly at Blaise. "Make sure he doesn't kill Granger. I don't want that over my head as well. I have no idea when I'll return, but if it does become late your welcome to kick Nott out at any time." He considered that for a half moment. "Actually, don't. I don't want the old bat coming up here tomorrow morning complaining all about my carelessness."

Blaise nodded, blocking out Nott's annoyed expression in the background. "And then you'll explain more I hope?"

"We'll see." He walked past Blaise to the door, patting his cloak lightly. Yes, the book was still there, just to reference in case he needed to check on ingredients. As he opened the door, he glanced back at the pair. They looked rather odd, sitting in his dorm room to watch Granger-well, at least one of them. It would have made more sense if it were Hermione's own friends, but that just wasn't going to happen.

He walked out and shut the door. No, it didn't make sense but he had little time to accomplish anything. The potion would take five days to fully prepare; another day to sit, and then she would be asleep for two days the first time. He needed more then a week, but it just wasn't going to happen. If he planned on saving her life, he should've prepared days ago, had all the ingredients, and been prepared. Now, he was going to have to rush to collect everything and begin immediately.

The only problem was, a few of those things for the potion were highly expensive.

Draco walked quickly down the empty corridors, hoping to not be seen. If anyone saw him, he would have a hard time explaining why he wasn't watching Granger. And worse, what would he do if he ran into the girl's friends?

He shook his head. No reason to worry himself about all that. He simply needed to get out of the castle and down to his broom, which he had placed down in the Quidditch pitch for when the season began, although he doubted he would be able to participate that year, unfortunately.

Draco sighed. Today was going to be a long day.

* * *

><p>It was well past two before Draco finally met up with the person he desperately needed to see. He had owled her earlier, and she had agreed to meet him here, if only to save Hermione Granger. Of course, she could save the girl herself if she simply had the book, but she didn't. It was in Malfoy's possession and he intended to keep it there.<p>

She sat down across from him in the back of the restaurant, the blond not concerned at all with being watched, since he had instructed the waitress to not come around bothering him again. After glancing around to make sure no one was paying them any mind, she turned and glared at the boy.

"Give me the book Malfoy so I can heal Hermione myself. I won't have you bothering her."

He clicked his tongue. "I have no reason to give it to you. Besides, I'm sharing a dorm room with her, and time is ticking. We don't have time to wait for you to come and visit Hogwarts."

"I could go visit right now."

"And stay for several days until the potion is complete, give it to her, hope it works without the slave deal in effect, and return at the end of each week with a new batch to repeat? I highly doubt that, and I think she'll simply slip away if you go with that tactic."

The woman pursed her lips. "This is dark magic boy. You shouldn't be tampering with it!"

"Ah," he said, rolling his eyes. "My mother said the same thing."

"Then she is right," the other replied, clasping the strap of her bag tightly. "I don't trust any of this with you Draco, because I have never once trusted _you_."

Again, he rolled his eyes. "It's not like I have any faith in you either. We aren't close, and we don't talk. I only called in this favor from you because I _know _you're familiar with this, and that you would be able to acquire the necessary ingredients that I couldn't reach."

She frowned. "I am not a messenger, and I should turn you into the Ministry for this! I've been searching for that book for ages! But I wouldn't have thought Lucius to care about keeping something from the Black Family."

He shrugged. "Everything is done for a reason." He nodded his head towards the bag. "I see you went to the stores I mentioned."

The woman glared. "Yes, and at each one I was given a very strange look. Do you even know how much Dragon's Blood costs?"

"More then the egg shells," he replied, finishing his drink. "But that's beside the point. I will refund every bit of money you spent, but I will not be giving you this book, nor will I be going to Azkaban for this. The moment I hear I'm being arrested, the book will spell itself into hiding. It's a rather neat trick I discovered, part of the secrecy I suppose."

She shook her head. "You are absolutely unbelievable! You're far too young to be doing any of this by yourself, much less dealing with the magic! What will you tell everyone when Hermione makes a miraculous recovery?"

"I suppose I'll have to deal with it when the problem comes up, though I don't plan on helping her out much. She's smart, she can come up with her own lies all by herself, I'm sure."

"And why wouldn't she tell anyone about what you did?"

"The slave deal," he snapped. "I may not be as primitive as other's before me but I don't believe this will work unless every step is taken, which includes some sort of slave deal. But I can't even begin to save her life without those ingredients."

"You do have a bit of time, from the description in your letters. She must still have a rough three weeks."

He narrowed his eyes. "And how could you possibly know, even when the Healer's do not?"

She smiled. "I, unlike you Draco, believe in the muggle world, and I have researched Sarcoma enough since receiving your letter to know her time is drawing to a close, but isn't quite over yet. She still has a few weeks, but the days are numbered. And honestly! Even with the threats-"

"Threats," Draco interrupted, now very interested. "What threats?"

She looked away. "Never mind, I'm saying far too much as my annoyance grows. You aren't supposed to know anything about that, and I will say absolutely nothing further on the matter. We are not here to discuss that, after all."

The Slytherin frowned. Everyone seemed to dance off that topic it seemed, and if he wasn't in the middle of a very important discussion he would press for her to say more. "Fine, what were you getting at then?"

"She needs to be at St. Mungo's, not wasting time at Hogwarts." The witch shook her head. "Everyone is trying to do what's best for the majority of people, but no one is going about it very well-and no, before you ask, I will not explain to you. I am just talking out loud."

He scowled. This woman was irritating the hell out of him. No wonder they never spoke. "Whatever. The point is that Granger needs those ingredients more then I do, and by not giving them to me you're just forfeiting her life."

"I could-"

"You can't perform the magic," he said dully, trying desperately to draw this conversation to a close. "The book will no longer answer to you, nor will the spell."

She pursed her lips, defeated. "I know very well how the magic works, and it's a lot of bollocks! Your mother gave you the book yes, when she left it in the open for another Black to find, which was you, the next generation. However, I-"

"Will never have the chance. Mother got the book after Bellatrix went to Azkaban, it's simple as that. Nothing will change who the magic answers to, and by arguing with me you're wasting valuable time to prepare the potion."

The woman shook her head, evident anger burning in her eyes. "You are as bad as Lucius once was."

He sneered. "No, not quite."

The two were quiet for several moments after that. Lucius was not part of this conversation, and she very well knew that it wasn't a great topic to bring up with the deranged man's son of all people. However, he was wearing on her nerves, and the situation was out of control. Neither could do anything about how things had played out and she had to except that. If not for him, then certainly for Hermione.

She took the bag off her arm and shoved it in his direction. The blond raised an eyebrow as the witch stood, eyes staring off elsewhere.

"If you let her die, I'll make sure you end up in Azkaban for it." Before he could reply, she turned abruptly and stormed away, leaving him alone in the restaurant.

The blond smirked and opened the bag, studying the contents inside. Yes, this would do just perfectly.

**a/n: **Leave a review? Please, it would make my day! :)


	8. And it Won't Leave Me Alone

**A/N:** I updated early, because I can't get out of a certain spot in my other story :/ Also, if you enjoy this story, check out "Man in the Mirror"! It's my first request story! Now I hope this chapter satisfies some of you, because things are going to start picking up for a while in the next few chapters :D

**HMK: **Of course! I love this story, it's so much fun to write :)

**They Call Me Ginger: **Glad you like it! And don't worry, all will be revealed in time :D

**Bambi**: Andromeda? It's possible, but don't worry! Things will unravel over time!

**Jelisha Baby 22: **Well, here's a bit more!

**justine: **Yes, one of the two! And your very welcome (:

**Eric: **I will, don't worry. Tonks? Maybe...You'll have to wait and see on the rest of it!

**Daddy: **Yes, they are interesting...

* * *

><p><strong>And It Won't Leave Me Alone<strong>

* * *

><p>Blaise was watching Theo closely.<p>

The boy's stare lingered on Hermione's door, as though he wished to go in there and strange the Gryffindor right then. It was a bit unsettling really, how very much Theo seemed to hate someone he didn't know. The war was over, so he had no real grudges towards her except her blood status, which was hardly worth commenting on anymore unless you're Draco Malfoy.

Still, Theo seemed to suddenly possess hatred towards Granger that even Malfoy didn't have, Draco was even going to save the girl's life-for his own benefit of course-but still, he could just as easily let her die. Nott on the other hand looked about ready to go in there and use one of the Unforgivables.

And honestly, Blaise just wanted to knock his classmate out, so that he could relax and take a nap himself while he missed the afternoon classes, but he didn't think that would be a good idea.

Theo stood up suddenly, and walked towards Hermione's door as he said, "I'm going to go see the MudBlood." He continued right on his way to the door.

Blaise stood up and followed casually behind, wand held loosely in his grip just in case it was suddenly needed. "Sit down Theo; we're not here to bother Granger, just to make sure she doesn't die."

"Yes," he bit out, "how charming." He placed his hand on the first door and opened it, before stepping and grabbing a hold of Granger's doorknob. A grip on his shoulder made him pause.

"Leave her be. She doesn't need us bothering her."

"I don't give a damn." He moved to open the door but Blaise's present grip tightened.

"As I said, leave her be. Malfoy's just going to return and hex you if you make his job harder to do."

"I'm not so sure it's that I'll be bothering his _job_," Theo snapped, turning around. "He always seems a bit off when she comes up, doesn't he? Like he's keeping something from us, Zabini. Malfoy shouldn't give a fuck about the Mudblood either, but you and him seem a bit concerned with keeping people away from her. Why is that, I wonder?"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Malfoy doesn't want anything causing him more trouble with Granger, that's all there is Nott. I'm simply helping out an old friend. Whatever strange conspiracy your mind has made up is completely wrong." Nott gave him a skeptical look, but didn't move from the door.

Blaise sincerely hoped that Nott would buy that. Draco was defiantly in deeper than that, but he would kill him for saying anything, and he certainly wasn't ready to die. Nott wasn't really supposed to be there anyways, so Blaise didn't feel a shred of guilt about lying to someone he had been somewhat close to during their first years here. Since then, their friendship had gotten more and more strained.

"Well," he continued, frowning, "whatever it is that Malfoy is doing, I don't give a damn." He grinned, before snapping out a hand, throwing open the girls door. "Besides I have some questions for Miss _Granger_."

As Nott took a few steps in, Blaise took out his wand and grabbed the other Slytherin, spinning him around to face him. "Get out of the room Nott. You have no business bothering Granger."

He sneered. "And how would you know?"

_Because I pay attention? Malfoy's been up here every day watching, if you had something to do with the Gryffindor he would probably let you know, you git! _Instead of saying that, he said, "Because, you've never taken an interest in her before now. Honestly Nott, I don't think you've even called her a Mudblood before this year. What's your problem, hmm?"

The other boy drew his wand as well, glaring now. "Just because I never took up interest in Draco's obsession with the girl doesn't mean anything. She's just as filthy as she's always been, and I want an up close and _personal _look at how much longer she has."

Blaise narrowed his eyes. "What is that supposed to mean Nott?" He jabbed him in the chest with his wand. "Seems like a strange statement to me."

He glared. "It just means I've heard around in Slytherin that Granger's good as dead. I'll admit, not everyone is overjoyed, or even cares, but the rest of the school certainly doesn't know, or there would be an uproar."

The Italian frowned. _How does Slytherin know? I was just down there this afternoon and no one has mentioned anything. Hell, no one's seen her to even know. If that were a true statement, I would know too! _"Ah." Why push him? Nott was acting strange, and he intended to see where all this was leading. He was rather persistent to check in on Granger, after all.

He hesitantly released the man's arm, watching closely as Nott made his way across the room and stopped at the end of the bed. The girl was still sound asleep, crazy as she was! Obviously, she was near the end, but Blaise knew so little about what he was dealing with that he couldn't begin to understand.

Nott stood at the end of the bed for what could have been minutes, before he moved to her side and stared critically down at her. Her face was drawn and taunt, like the last bit of life was slipping out the sides. The girl was thin, but he couldn't help thinking she still had a bit of meat on her, in places.

Nonetheless, she was revolting to look at. Too hollow, too sickly. He took a step back, screwing up his face. "She looks worse than on Sunday."

"Yes," Blaise snapped, rubbing the side of his head. "That happens." The boy was wearing on his nerves, and all he wanted to do was drag him out before Malfoy returned and they made conversation over the way poor Granger looked.

Then again, maybe Malfoy would just hex the arse instead and make up for Blaise's wasted day with the man. One could only hope.

"Get out now," he continued, still glaring at Nott. "She needs sleep, and if you're so disgusted then you shouldn't want to stay there in the first place."

Nott shrugged, reaching out and pulling on a bit of her hair. He frowned. She only shuffled at the action, as though trying to move away, but remained asleep. Even Granger could feel more then that!

Blaise distantly heard the sound of the picture outside opening, but it was well past nine and Malfoy was trying to go unnoticed. At least the boy was there! If Draco had just returned, it meant he could finally drag Theo back out.

"Mudblood," he finally said, rolling his eyes. "Quit ignoring me. I'm trying to make sure you're still alive for _Malfoy's _sake."

"She's asleep you idiot," Blaise said, walking towards him. "Leave her alone, you're honestly beginning to piss me off with all of this." He reached out and attempted to grab ahold of Theo's arm, who in return snatched it away.

"Being asleep doesn't make her deaf." He reached out and poked her shoulder hard with the tip of his wand before Blaise realized what he was doing. "Mudblood! Get yourself up already!"

Draco heard Theo's voice from the kitchen as he deposited the potion ingredients, and rolled his eyes. The anguished cry that followed told Draco a good deal of what was happening, and he frowned. Nott was going to make his job much harder. _I'll have to remember to never let this git in again. He's going to cause Granger to scream, and then I'm going to have to deal with it!_

The blond walked over to the bedrooms, peering into Hermione's room. Upon entering the dorm, he had been unsure why everyone wasn't present, but this explained everything. As he walked in and noticed the scene before him, he was nearly tempted to walk out, but that just wouldn't do.

Granger had curled away from the two Slytherin's to the other side of the bed, clutching her shoulder, face muffled into the pillow to try and soften a second agonized scream. Blaise and Theo had their wands pointed at one another, and Theo had a mixture of emotions in his eyes that Draco couldn't quite read.

He hated people.

Pulling out his own wand, he accio'd Theo's to him before the boy noticed his presence, and pocketed it for the time being. This drew both the boys' attention, but Granger remained in her own little world of pain.

He scowled. "Now what have you done?"

Theo glared at him, but it was Blaise who spoke. "Nott poked her with his wand, and she screamed." He held up his hands, showing that he didn't know exactly why, but from the voices Draco had heard, he guessed it was simply to get her attention.

"Nott," Draco said, shaking his head in dismay. Honestly, why would you jab a sick, skinny person? _Oh that's right, to be a complete asshole. _"Stop bothering Granger. It won't help me at all if she dies. Now leave the room, you're not supposed to be here in the first place."

Theo pursed his lips. He didn't like how Draco was acting. His cool demur made him appear to be calm and not affected, but he was standing a bit too straight. Something about the situation was bothering him, and Theo sincerely wanted to know what.

"I don't think so Malfoy," he said, pushing Blaise to the side. The Italian immediately raised his wand to hex him, until he saw Malfoy's glare out of the corner of his eyes. Merlin help him, the blond was _curious. _"I would rather figure out what's made the Mudblood squirm and scream."

Draco narrowed his eyes. He didn't like the way Theo was talking; it almost had a creepy, underlining meaning to it. He watched the boy's movements as he sat down on the bed with a look of distaste, before he snatched her up by her shoulder and made her face him. She whimpered; the pain magnified as he made contact with an infected area.

"What's your problem Mudblood?" He was in her sickly face, invading her personal space, and she shrank from him. It was too familiar.

Blaise reached out to rip Nott away, but Draco already had a silent spell cast, throwing Nott back against the wall near his other classmate. He looked around, disoriented, unsure how the fuck he had been thrown off her. His eyes traveled towards the approaching blond and he glared. "Wandless magic now Malfoy? You won't even deal with me yourself?"

He shrugged, glancing at Granger. She had her eyes pressed closed, lips trembling. "If you paid attention to what your father once tried to teach you, you would know how to do it too, Nott. However, you were causing my roommate to scream bloody murder, and I can't just let that happen, can I?" He cocked an eyebrow, watching as the boy got unsteadily to his feet and glared at the two Slytherin's around him, now blocking the way to Granger.

"You're not her guardian," he snapped. "Besides, I'm hardly touching her!"

"Jerking on her shoulder and jabbing her with your wand isn't light touching," Draco remarked. "Now leave my dorm room before I throw you out, and trust me Nott, you won't appreciate it."

He leered, and then glared at Zabini. "You don't think this is a little much? I wasn't trying to hurt her!"

Blaise snorted, and moved to sit by Granger, worried about how she was doing. "Yes, it looks that way, doesn't it?" He moved a hand and tentatively rested it on her other shoulder, rubbing the skin instead of squeezing. "If you have heard she is so very sick, then you shouldn't be such a wanker and think jerking her around will do any good."

Theo glared. "Fine, blame me for Granger's weakness." He focused his eyes on the blond, who only stood four inches higher than him. "I'm terribly sorry to have hurt your damn Mudblood, I was misinformed. I've been under the impression that for the last seven years you've hated her!"

"Whether I hate her or not doesn't mean I need to sit back and watch you cause her pain either Nott. Keep your bloody hands off my roommate and stay out of my dorm. You've become quite a nuisance." He ran a hand through his hair. "Blaise will show you out, and I won't be letting you in again."

Theo just snorted. "As if I would want to!" He extended his hand, expression hard. "My wand then?"

Draco pulled it out but passed the thin wood on to his friend instead, who was giving him a curious look from his stop on the bed. "I'm sure Zabini will be happy to return it to you once you are out of my dorm. And don't worry Nott; the password will be changed in the morning, so it's not use trying to return."

Nott opened his mouth to say something, but clamped it shut instead and stormed past the two instead, making sure to shove Malfoy as he walked by. Draco had half a mind to throw him into the ground, but decided against it. As Blaise stood up and followed Theo out, Draco spoke.

"Change the password to whatever you like, I don't care. Tell the portrait I've given you special permission, and if he doesn't agree come find me. I need to make sure she's not going to fucking die on me." He inclined his head towards Hermione. "I'll be out shortly, however."

Blaise nodded once, before following Theo out the door and giving him a light shove. He considered Malfoy's actions as they walked to the door. His eyes had been a cold steel, his posture straight. Blaise could recall few times before when he had witnessed such controlled anger from his friend.

He found it ironic that this side of Malfoy emerged when Theo hurt her, despite the fact that Draco had been hurting her one way or another since the first day.

Draco raised an eyebrow. Hermione was still on the bed, or at least, as still as she could apparently manage. She shook a bit, and her lips quivered. He could hear her muffled sobs, and occasionally a few stray tears fell from her eyes.

He reached over to a bottle and picked it up, recognizing the potion inside. Without touching her, he spoke. "Granger, drink your pain potion before you scream again. I swear if you shatter my ear drums I'll have to make our deal even harder for you."

She didn't respond, and he was half tempted to poke her, but thought better of it. Nott had her withering in pain with that action, and he was attempting to get her to shut up, after all. No, it was probably better to keep his hands away from her.

"Open your damn eyes," he muttered, frowning now. The girl was beyond stubborn.

After a moment, she opened her red eyes, not looking at him but obviously focused on the pain rolling through her body. He remembered something from that book that he had read the other night; if you were in pain and rolled onto another inflicted area of the body, it could also cause you pain, and from there it would just spiral down. From the mess he had seen her in when he first walked into the room, he was pretty sure she had done just that, in her desperate attempt to get away from Theo.

_I don't know why she was desperate really. I mean, Theo was a bitch just then, but he didn't say anything worse to her then I ever have. It shouldn't have scared her that badly, for her to have to twist around like that. What do I know though? Maybe Nott pushed her down the stairs once or something, I suppose that's a justifiable reason for fearing someone. _He shook his head, realizing how off track he was, and looked down at her eyes once more.

"I'd recommend sitting up, or you're going to choke on your pain relief potion, and I don't think me touching you at all will help." She glared up at him and he scowled. "Come on Granger, move already!"

Hermione glared up at him. Sure, it was all Theo's fault that her body was alive with pain, but she'd rather he dump the potion on her face and attempt to swallow some then try to sit up. Nonetheless, he looked rather pissed and she had distant memories of him grabbing her arm too harshly when he was in those moods. She moved her opposite arm, using the body parts that weren't in pain to try and move herself into a sitting position. Draco watched with a frown.

_She just really can't do anything can she? _After watching her attempt to sit up and fail repeatedly several times, he slammed the bottle onto her bedside table, causing her to look up, and sat beside her. He grabbed her around her middle and she hissed as he forced her into a sitting position, moving from behind her so she could lie back against the pillow.

She sighed after a moment, pain still rolling through her body. Opening her mouth to say something, she was rather horrified to find the bottle at her lips, the icky substance filling her mouth quickly. She swallowed fast twice, draining the bottle. He removed the mouth and she choked.

"Sorry," he snapped. "I figured if you started talking you would never shut up again." He gave her a strange look as he placed the cork lid back on the bottle and set it down. His eyes ran over her once, in a very different way than Theo's had, and his eyebrows drew together. The skin by her shoulder was off color a bit, but he ignored the voice in the back of his head, telling him what it could be.

"I'm going to go see Blaise," he said after a moment, standing and folding his arms. "I trust you won't die if I leave you alone for a few moments?"

"No," she chocked out, eyes still red.

"Good," he snapped, turning and leaving her bedroom, door wide open. Nott seemed to be causing a lot of problems the last few days.

He found Blaise in the kitchen, studying the different potion ingredients gathered there, his eyebrows drawn together. "What kind of potion is this Malfoy?"

"As I said before, it's her cure."

He rolled his eyes. "I see that, but this has a lot of ingredients. Are you sure it'll be ready in time for Granger? She looks pretty bad."

"I think everyone has said that," he grumbled. "It will be ready for her after six days; five to complete the potion and one day for it to sit. If I start tonight, it will be ready for her to take on the 23rd. I have enough ingredients to make the doses afterwards too, so I think everything will work out alright, so long as I can buy one more day from the hospital."

Blaise frowned. "Why one more day?"

"They want her back in a week's time, but I need a week and a day. I just need to figure out how to obtain that." He rubbed his temples, frowning deeply. He had absolutely no idea what to do about that dilemma, and he was very tempted to throw it at Granger to deal with herself. He'd give it one more day, and if he still hadn't the lightest idea, then it would fall on Granger's shoulders to deal with that one little thing for him.

His friend noticed Draco's frustration, and quickly changed the subject. "I don't think Nott has any plans to return. He was rather angry that you were, in his words, 'kicking him out for the likes of a dirty fucking Mudblood'. Honestly, he's just complaining. It's not as though Granger could have pushed him away anyways, in her state."

"Yes," Draco mused, "that was definitely out of line for Nott."

Blaise nodded, looking at the potion ingredients in front of him, counting them up. "Eight ingredients? Seems like a lot."

"It's a very complicated potion," Draco replied, walking away. "The rest are in my room." He left Blaise to stare at the assorted ingredients, but returned a few moments later with the last bit of them. He removed five more ingredients from the bag, placing them all in a neat order on the table. He pulled his cauldron from his pocket and shifted it back to its original size, setting it on a kitchen chair in the small kitchen.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose in thought. "It'd be best to do this alone. I don't want any distractions, because if anything is slightly wrong, it'll kill her." He didn't have to look at Blaise's face to know he thought this was a big risk, and that he was worried about Draco messing up. Before he could start lecturing, Draco continued, "I'm the best potions student Snape ever had. I'm certain I can make this potion."

The Italian held up his hands in defeat. "I can't say anything about this Malfoy, because if you mess up and she dies, it would be the same result if you just did nothing and she died. Except with this, you could be blamed for speeding the process up."

"Yes, I already know that," he snapped. "Would you let me be, Blaise? Granger's door is open, so at least now you know I'm not ignoring her." He smirked, knowing that Zabini had been about to point that out.

He grinned back. "No, I suppose for once you're actually watching her like you're supposed to." He glanced around once more at the array of ingredients, before he nodded to the blond. "Good luck Malfoy, I hope your potion skills don't fail you this one time."

He scowled. "Yes, me too."

* * *

><p>Blaise was nearly back to the Slytherin common rooms when he spotted a familiar face. Ducking behind a statue, he watched with interest as Welsh walked by, headed back the way he had just come. He raised an interested eyebrow. <em>Wonder what he's doing here. This defiantly isn't Granger's room.<em>

Once Welsh was pretty far down the hall, Blaise snuck out to follow him. He stayed a safe distance back, hoping to see what exactly the man was doing. He rounded several corners, and Blaise drew closer, just as he stopped at a window, looking out. The Slytherin sank into the shadows, watching.

He stroked a dull brown owl, patting the head lightly before he removed a note from his pocket and placed it in the bird's talons. He whispered something, and then the bird was off.

In the darkness, he began to mutter to himself. "It's not safe, and if he keeps going about things like this, he'll get caught by Malfoy." The man clasped his hands together in the moonlight, obviously conflicted. After a moment's hesitation at the window, he turned and began to walk, but paused in his movements. Blaise held his breath, wondering if the man had heard him within the shadows.

He apparently decided that because this was Hogwarts, he was perfectly fine. Turning once again, this time with a strange look on his face, and continued on his way. The Italian waited until he saw the man round a corner, and then waited another minute, just in case. Finally, he stepped from the darkest shadows and looked around, perplexed.

He wandered to the window and peered out, although he already knew that the bird was long gone, just like Hermione's Healer. Stepping away from the window, he glanced around before heading back to the Slytherin dungeons, his mind spinning.

_What the hell was all that supposed to mean?_

* * *

><p>Once Blaise was gone, Draco immediately began working. He had things to deal with, and the potion had to be made tonight if he wanted to avoid the hospital situation. He was currently staring down at the potion list, annoyed. Every damn time he brewed this potion, he was going to need two Chinese Fireball Eggshells. <em>Brilliant, let's spend all our money on the shells and blood, shall we?<em>

To begin with he only needed five of the total thirteen ingredients; two Chinese Fireball Eggshells, Asafoetida, snake venom (and lots of it!), pomegranate and wormwood. He reread the page five times with instructions, and frowned deeper each time. What kind of potion was this anyway? _None I've ever heard of!_

It took him a short while to make the potion of the five ingredients, but it was close to midnight by that time. All the things that had happened tonight seemed to wear on him, and he was bloody tired. Retiring early was the only thing he desired. Before turning in however, he skimmed the page again.

In twelve hours, he needed to put in the celery seed. _So around noon. Bloody fantastic! And to think, I was going to actually catch up on my sleep. _

He turned away from the book and walked to his bedroom, peering into Hermione's room first. She was asleep, apparently content for the moment now that the pain had subsided back down from whatever the hell it was. He sighed. She was such an annoying little pest, taking up his time and being the reason for why he was now bound to a dorm room.

Draco considered going in there and being a complete ass, just because he could, but the night's events stopped him. Something about when Nott had grabbed her shoulder, and the terrified look her eyes took on, made it seem as though there was something more there. Although the urge to make her suffer just a bit, and understand the strain all of this was going to put him under was very much there, he didn't step forwards to pester the girl. Instead, he lashed out and caught her doorknob, slamming the door shut probably too loudly, and turned to his own room for the night.

He had just sat down on his bed, intent on a good night's sleep, when his mother's owl flapped his wings a bit, reminding the blond that he had yet to respond to her letter from yesterday. True, it had hardly been a long time, but he hated having owls in his room, and he quickly picked up the letter and reread it, before picking up a quill and some parchment, ready to respond.

_Mother~_

_I refuse to go to any Balls, let alone one with Pansy as my date. We are only friend's mother, and that is even strained. If you force me to go with her you'll be horrified at the way I dress, and that's my only warning. I could care less about being a High Class anything, so long as our money remains. Really, these Balls are tedious to attend. _

_As for father, I hope you resituate him well then. If you're looking for a place in High Class society again, having my deranged father coming through the place like an accepted mental patient won't do any good._

_No I won't be telling Pansy about the Ball! She can obtain her own date._

_The girl isn't a concern mother. She won't die, I promise you. I even have one of our dear relatives helping me get all the right ingredients. Don't worry, everything will go smoothly. I know what I'm doing, and besides, she won't be any better waiting to die, will she?_

_Please don't ask me about the Ball again. I know I'm being a git, but I hate the Balls mother, I always have. I'd sooner watch father. However, you're a marvelous party planner and I'm sure it will be fantastic with or without my attendance. _

_See you in a few months._

_~Draco_

* * *

><p>October 17 dawned early, and Hermione Granger was wide awake for it. The sunlight slowly entered her room, filling the dark space with needed light.<p>

The darkness was daunting. Theo had been in her mind last night, just like Welsh. Something about the pair was wrong but she didn't believe it had anything to do with each other. No, the men went about things too differently and didn't even talk about the same things. It wouldn't make sense for them to be involved with each other.

She closed her eyes and yawned. Desperate for sleep, she mauvered a bit, in hopes that her position would become more comfortable. Her eyes stayed closed for a few minutes, yet she could not sleep. Frustrated, she opened her eyes only to find Malfoy leaning against her doorframe, frowning.

"Morning," she rasped, reaching over and sipping her water. He hadn't come to check on her since leaving to find his friend last night, and then they had talked in normal tones, and she was too far away to hear them. At least she knew, before she had fallen asleep for a bit, that he wasn't a complete git. He was at least attempting to make sure she was still alive.

He wasn't looking at her, but instead around the room. "You're bloody potion is being brewed. I'll have it to you by the 22nd." His eyes finally turned to meet hers in the morning light, and his gaze hardened. "Now we just have to know how to persuade your dear Healer to let you remain here another day."

She nodded lightly. "How do you plan to do that?"

He shrugged. "I may just leave that part to you. You do know your own Healer better than I do, after all."

She flinched. "Yes, I guess I do."

He nodded in return. "Just keep laying there Granger. Don't get up and do anything reckless; soon as you break something else our time is done and I can no longer assist you." Hermione nodded once, and he turned to go. Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it.

She could question him later. He had yet to tell her what he wanted.

* * *

><p>It was around one that afternoon when Draco heard a lot of thudding on the door. He glanced up, wondering if the Weasel had come back to see Granger again. At least this time, she'd be awake.<p>

He wandered to the door and opened it a crack. Peering out, he groaned.

Leave it to the Weasel to bring the entire motley crew. He rolled his eyes and scowled. "Now what do you want Weasel?"

"Same thing as last time," he grunted. "To see Mione."

"Yes, you seem to have brought all your reinforcements this time." He glanced around at the three beside the redhead. He'd brought Scarhead with him, as well as his sister and the forgetful one. _This is going to be another long day._

He seemed to be having those a lot.

Pushing the door open further, he raised an eyebrow, speaking before the other four could. "You can see her for a bit, but don't bug her. I don't want her pestering me for something after you idiots leave." He moved away from the door, to the kitchen without another word. The four stood stunned, unsure why he had made this so easy, but didn't argue. Draco's back did receive some rather confused looks however as they passed by.

"Hey Hermione," Ginny said a minute later, entering the bedroom first. She walked quickly to her best friend, having taken in her appearance from the door. "What happened to you!"

Hermione blinked. Ginny had rushed in, alarmed, and followed quickly by the other three. _I must really look terrible. _"Nothing," she rasped, hoping her strained smile worked wonders.

"Bloody hell 'Mione," Ron added, going to her opposite side and sitting on the mattress beside Harry. Neville remained standing. "You look terrible."

Ginny reached across the bed and slapped him in the head. "Ron!"

"What," he asked rubbing his head.

"Hermione," Harry countered, reaching out a hand to rest lightly on her wrist, "What's happened? Aren't you supposed to be getting better?"

_No, I have to wait for Malfoy for that! _"Just a setback," she replied. "I'll be better soon." _I hope I get better soon._

"You don't look like it," Ron interjected, frowning. "You look worse than before."

"Do I?" _This is going to be one of those conversations isn't it?_

* * *

><p>Draco had just set the ingredients for Hermione's potion under an invisibility spell, along with the cauldron, just in case her friends got nosy. He headed back towards the bedrooms, Granger's friends having only been there for about ten minutes. He planned to go lie down, but he stalled outside the door.<p>

"_I'll kill him Hermione! The bastards not even taking care of you!"_

"_Ronald-"_

"_No, this is ridiculous!"_

"_Well, it's not-" _He listened to Granger as she coughed suddenly, and he realized the conversation was draining her voice, and probably her body. He had half a mind to go in, proclaim his roommate too sick for visitors, and kick them out just for the hell of it, but he decided against it-_"his fault. You can't just make a person sick like this. But like I said, I'll be better soon." _

Draco rolled his eyes. He wondered how many times Granger had told her friends that.

"_I'm tired, perhaps you guys could come back and visit another time?"_

That was it for the blond. He turned quickly and entered his own half of the once giant bedroom, slamming his door shut before he began laughing. She was pushing _her dear friends out _because she simply couldn't take it! It was a bit comical to listen to the Mudblood, who valued friends and family kick them out in a desperate attempt to save some energy. He wondered how well they would take that.

Sitting on his bed, he stretched. Today hadn't been too awful. He could tolerate a day like this, so long as it had less of Granger's friends in the future. He reclined back against his pillows, hearing the faintest crunch of paper as he did so.

_That's right! I still have Miss Granger's secret letter._

He sat back up and reached under, searching. Pulling the letter out, he found the envelope wrinkled quite a bit. Breaking the seal that only looked vaguely familiar, he pulled out a piece of parchment and read through it quickly.

His brow scrunched up. No, this definitely wasn't good. _What the fuck is all that supposed to mean? _He tossed the letter to the side in a huff, shaking his head.

_Looks like I'll be showing Granger her own letter first._

* * *

><p>Not ten minutes later, Potter and his friends left, looking rather distressed and irritated. He smirked. That's how he liked the Gryffindor's, irritated.<p>

He leaned against the doorframe and peered into Granger's room. She was staring at a wall opposite him, apparently trying to ignore his presence, but he was having none of that. The letter was tucked precariously into his pocket, itching to be thrown in her direction.

Draco wandered into her room, scowl evident on his face, stopping at the end of her bed, glaring down at her. She looked up at him, expression cold.

"Ron thinks I'm a liar," she rasped, rolling her eyes.

"That sounds typical," Draco replied. "He always thinks I'm a liar."

"That's because you are," she said, couching a bit. "When will you begin the potion?"

He frowned. "What do you mean, begin? I started working on it yesterday."

It was Hermione's turn to frown. "Are you sure?"

"Completely." He took a step closer. "Are you alright there Granger? You seem…confused."

"Yes," she replied simply. "I just don't remember you ever mentioning this."

"You-" He clamped his mouth shut, a section of that book clicking into his mind:

_A person who has developed Sarcoma can expect to feel highly uncomfortable pains throughout the inflicted parts of the body. If the disease is widespread, you will find Sarcoma classified under fatal, with these signs pointing towards the persons' death:_

_-Irregular or long periods of sleep._

_-Sickly appearance and/or loss of weight._

_-Change in diet/less liquid consumption._

_-Needing help moving around, even short distances._

_-Bones breaking over minor incidents._

_-Hair loss._

_-Loss of memory._

_-Mood swings._

_Fuck._ If this little memory lapse of hers continued, his once brilliant roommate would be an absolute moron. _Hopefully that gets fixed as well. I don't know what people will do when the bloody girl can't hold a steady conversation. I'll probably be blamed for making her go insane, if her friends have any say in it._

He grimaced. She had multiple signs now, and it could get worse over the next few days. "Never mind Granger," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "Go to sleep or something." He turned to go.

"Malfoy?"

"Now what," he grumbled, turning to glare at her.

"Do you think it'll work?"

_Oh great, now she really is insane. She must not be sleeping enough or something, because there is no way she is asking me if I think she'll live or not. _"Course Granger. I am making the potion, after all. Nothing will go wrong, now go to sleep."

"I'm not sleeping now Malfoy, I just woke up."

"Then do whatever it is you do when you are actually awake." He scowled, waiting to see if she would say more.

There was a small pause, during which Draco decided he would leave again. And yet again, her voice stopped him. "Will you take me into the living room?"

"The living room," he echoed, turning to raise an eyebrow at her. "You've stayed in this room how many days, and now you desire to leave? You seem rather slow Granger."

She frowned. "I've gotten bored with waiting in here. I want out of this space."

"And what do you expect from me," he growled. "Am I supposed to carry you in there or something?" _The last thing I want to do it touch you!_

She shrugged. "Or help me walk. I don't want to sit in here anymore Malfoy."

He smirked. "The most talking you do in days, and it's just to say you want me to do something else. What's in this for me exactly?"

Her eyes lowered slightly. "Nothing I suppose. But if you leave me out there I can watch you make the potion."

"I'm not doing anything else with the potion today," he snapped.

She coughed a bit, clutching her stomach with her good arm and burying her face into a nearby pillow. He crinkled his nose. "Fine Malfoy. Just leave me be then."

"With pleasure." He turned abruptly and left, not looking back at all.

He walked next door into his rom, slamming the door in annoyance. Was she stupid? No, he didn't want to move her anywhere! Soon enough, she would be able to move all by herself. The girl could survive her boredom, depression, whatever she had for a few more days, and it wouldn't kill her.

He removed the letter and tossed it onto his bedside table, right beside the last one his mother had sent. She would be just fine, and hopefully he wouldn't have to see her the rest of the day.

Then again, there were several more hours before ten.

* * *

><p><strong>an: **Like it? She'll be healed soon enough! What do you guys think he'll want in return? Tell me in your review! I'd love to know, but I really love hearing what you guys think :D


	9. These Wounds Won't Seem to Heal

**a/n: **I think this has been updated fairly quickly :) Let me know what you guys think! This chapter is a bit short, but it covers several days, and I think you'll like what happens (or you'll be worried and concerned). Depends on how you take it, we'll see. And if you like it, feel free to leave me a review by pressing that blue button at the bottom! :D

* * *

><p><strong>HMK: <strong>She is! As for Draco's ideas, you'll have to read and find out!

**justine: **We'll see the letter soon :) As for Theo, you have to wait and see…

**Bambi: **Welsh is for later…and yes, eventually Hermione's friends will know!

**Daddy: **Yes, hopefully…

**Eric**: Tied together? Hmm, that is a possibility…and yes, he could. But we'll have to wait and see what happens…

**Jelisha Baby 22: **The mysteries will have to cease sometime…and here you go!

**They Call Me Ginger: **I believe Theo annoys everyone to some extent. And yes, Draco is helpful in his own special ways, isn't he?

* * *

><p><strong>These Wounds Won't Seem to Heal<strong>

* * *

><p>It was October 20, and Draco had one final ingredient to add to the potion before he left it to sit for a day. He had already put in the Flobberworm, hellebore, Althaea Leaves, Sopohorous and Black Beatles. However, the last ingredient severely worried him.<p>

Dragon Blood from an Antipodean Opaleye Dragon was extremely dangerous, and the potion would explode in his face if he put a drop too much in. After that, he wouldn't have time to get more ingredients and begin the process again. He was sure Granger would end up dead.

Which is why at 9a.m that morning, on a Saturday of all things when he should've still been in bed, he felt slightly unnerved. If he didn't put enough in, the book told him the drinker's skin would burn off and the potion would melt them from the inside. The Dragon Egg shells had similar effects if used incorrectly, and he sincerely hoped he was doing this right. His mother hadn't told him to be careful for nothing. _Any incorrect brewing causes immediate death._ _Brilliant. _He was now feeling the nerves catching up as he thought about killing another person, and he shuddered before picking up the dark vile and taking the cork off.

The stuff had cost a hefty penny, and his relative had been rather unhappy purchasing it, even when he reimbursed her. Opaleye's were a beautiful breed of Dragon, one his father had talked about on occasion, but that his mother told him stories about as a child. Funny how the Dragon was something that reminded Draco so much of a Malfoy, but its blood was used in a Black Family potion.

His mother's descriptions had always been wondrous, and he recalled the words she would often use as he began pouring the blood into the cauldron, ever careful.

_The Antipodean Opaleye is a breed of Dragon native to New Zealand, although it has been known to migrate to Australia in search of territory. It resides in valleys, which is unusual as dragons typically reside on mountains. It is generally considered one of the most beautiful dragons with pearly scales that line its body, and glittering multi-colored eyes that have no pupils. The Opaleye's eggs are pale grey and been known to be mistaken by Muggles as fossils. Its flame is vivid red, and the Opaleye is not particularly aggressive, rarely killing unless it is hungry. Its prey of choice is sheep, but it has been known to attack larger animals._

He jerked his hand up suddenly, checking the bottle, then the potion. He was positive the right amount had been deposited into the cauldron, and he quickly corked the bottle and began stirring. Best to not let it sit.

Several minutes later, he found himself thinking about many things. Granger had only gotten worse the last few days coughing up blood here and there, hardly eating and sometimes bringing up topics they hadn't been discussing at all. One day, she had even asked him about the letter 'p' when they had been discussing whether or not she needed more water.

_Completely delusional. _

And of course, her friends blamed her behavior on _him._ They had come by on the seventeenth, talked to Hermione who fell asleep halfway through, then came out and asked him what the hell he had done to her because she looked terrible. Well, it wasn't his fucking fault! He was dreading the next encounter, and knew that by the 22 he would have to come up with some wonderful excuses to not let them in for a few days. She could come up with a way to explain everything, like her getting better, herself.

He ran a hand through his hair and glanced at the clock. Welsh was coming around four, requested by Draco, to come see her. Really, they were just going to work on persuading him to allow her one more day in the castle. Some shit about saying goodbye or something. He wasn't sure that would work, but he could try. Besides, using one of the Unforgivable's on the man didn't really sound appealing.

Walking to his bedroom, he decided to use the next several hours to catch up on schoolwork. Sitting down, he thought about the man some more, and Blaise's story about him a few nights ago. He was acting odd, especially for someone who worked at St. Mungo's, and was probably needed there. He had no reason to be wandering the school if he only ever came for Hermione.

_Strange. Probably bothering some of the seventh years, the pervert. _Draco shook his head, throwing that idea out. He did not want that mental picture.

Then there was Theo, who was also acting very out of character. Theo had always been nice, charming, and considerate. He was a major hit among the females at school, not unlike Blaise and Draco himself. Now however, the boy was cold and borderline creepy, and Draco wondered vaguely what had caused the sudden change in him.

He shook his head again, focusing on his work. He had a couple hours, and he had been ignoring school a lot lately.

* * *

><p>Welsh arrived at ten after four, looking unusually happy for a house call. Draco rolled his eyes, deciding the man really could be a perv, and wandered towards the bedroom. "Granger had a question for you."<p>

"Just a question," he asked, his face falling a bit. "Is that all? I could've handled that from my office."

"Yes well, it's a question she preferred to do in person."

"Very well," he replied, walking into Hermione's room, pushing in front of the blond who frowned deeply. "Good day Miss Granger," he continued, upon seeing that she was actually awake. "What can I do for you today?"

Draco was about to leave Granger to her doom when he noticed her panicky eyes. _Great, even half gone she still knows how to be afraid. Maybe that's better though. _Sighing, he leaned against the doorframe. _Maybe this is better though. At least now I can save her arse when she loses her mind again._

"I need to talk to you," she said, voice scratchy like it had been for days now. Draco still crinkled his nose at the unpleasant sound.

"I heard. What can I do for you?" He gave her a large smile and she seemed to try and shrink away from him.

"I need an extra day."

He raised an eyebrow. "An extra day of what?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Granger has been begging to talk to you the last few days about staying one day longer here at the castle, until Tuesday night, Wednesday morning so she can be with her pathetic friends a bit longer." _There, that got it out quick enough._

Welsh seemed extremely irritated that the boy was the one who answered. "Miss Granger, you are deathly ill. The hospital is ready now if you would like, to take you in and start helping you. I was going to send an owl through until I got Mr. Malfoy's staying that you needed me to come see you."

She weakly shook her head. "I don't want to go."

"Miss Granger it is in your best interests that you come with me to St. Mungo's as soon as possible. The faster we can get you in a proper room the sooner we can help you. I'm sure those potions don't help you as much as is needed, and at St. Mungo's we will take good care of you."

"No. I don't want to go. I need to stay here, say goodbye to friends, do stuff my way." She glanced at the blond for help, hoping he would jump in soon and aid her.

Draco just smiled. He wanted to see how long she could last. After all, he was only in there to save her ass and keep his secret. She could continue to do the work in here until then.

"Miss Granger, please listen to me. I only want to make sure that you get better, as I'm sure your p-guardians want as well." Draco raised an eyebrow at the doctor's correction, eyeing the girl on the bed even more. Something wasn't right. "I am not trying to be mean and take your friends; I just want to make sure you're getting better. You're friends are always welcome to St. Mungo's, and can come see you whenever they wish during the visiting hours."

"I don't want them coming to the hospital. I want," she said, breaking off to cough, a horrible sound that made Draco wince. He didn't mind pain, he didn't mind seeing others in pain, but Granger just sounded plain disgusting. A moment passed before she continued. "I don't want them coming. I want to say goodbye beforehand. I want until Sunday."

He frowned, thinking slowly. _She's not yet safe, but they've said that so long as Malfoy is around, she will survive. He wouldn't come looking for her if this bastard is around, because he would recognize the man instantly before anyone else, and he wouldn't be able to finish whatever he started. That's why they're still here, because Malfoy can't leave school. _"Miss Granger, you're too sick. If I allow this I may just be signing your death certificate."

Hermione flinched at the words. "I will chance it."

Draco frowned, thinking Welsh had taken an awful long time to reply. Hermione's response worked fine, but he could hear the strange phrasing in her words, like she was slowly slipping. He was sure that in just a few minutes she would start making no sense again like before, and then he would get stuck with this.

"Miss Granger-"

"I think that the patient is entitled to decide their own fate so long as they are in the right state of mind," the blond snapped, speaking up. "If she wants to remain here a few extra days and waste away, then you can't tell her otherwise. She isn't insane, and you cannot make another person's decisions Welsh. I'm sure she will still be alive when you come by Monday morning."

"Mr. Malfoy-"

"Furthermore I have no desire to return to that hospital and I won't be going with. Come Wednesday morning, if Granger hasn't improved, then you may take her to Mungo's. Until then, this isn't your choice."

The man glared. "Whatever do you mean _if_? Do you have some hidden secret I don't know about Mr. Malfoy?"

"Seeing as I am not your patient, I am entitled to whatever secrets I decide to keep, and you can keep your nose out of my business. I am simply being optimistic. You people at St. Mungo's seem to believe you can help her, so why should I simply assume that she can't help herself?"

Welsh pursed his lips. He wasn't there to argue with a teenager, he was there to see his patient. Ignoring everything the boy had said to him, he turned back and looked at Hermione. "What would you like to do Miss Granger? Stay here and possibly sentence yourself to death, or come to the hospital and not worry so very much?"

She glanced at Draco, and in her eyes he saw the questioning look of whether or not she should put her last wisp of hope into the hands of her enemy. He was behind Welsh, and inclined his head to the ceiling, as though challenging her to go with the disturbed man in between them.

"I'll stay here," she said quietly.

_They better be right, or they'll have some nasty visitors soon. _"Very well," he replied through gritted teeth. "So be it. I will come by on Wednesday morning to see you, unless Mr. Malfoy has to call me earlier about something." He gave her a death glare.

"Yes, well," Draco said, cutting in. "You best be going. I believe your patient requires sleep."

"I know exactly what my patient requires Mr. Malfoy," Welsh replied coldly, not even bothering to look at him. "She is _my _patient, after all."

Draco rolled his eyes. The man needed to get over himself. However, he didn't miss the unusual dialect and the seemingly hidden message. _What exactly was that supposed to mean?_

"Good day Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger, I'll be in touch." He stood, looking at the pair before making his way to the door.

"I hate yellow," she grumbled, looking at him. The doctor stopped halfway and whirled around to stare at her.

"What does yellow have to do with anything Miss Granger?" His eyes narrowed glancing between the pair. A list of effects ran through his mind as he waited for the girl to reply. Instead, the blond spoke up.

"She's tired," he snapped, walking to the door and slowly forcing the man to step out. "Best to let her sleep don't you think?" He grabbed the door handle and slammed it shut behind him, leaving Granger alone in the room.

His eyes were still narrowed. "Mr. Malfoy, you would tell me if Miss Granger's condition had gotten worse, wouldn't you? You wouldn't leave her to suffer, right?"

Draco inwardly rolled his eyes. "Of course not. I'm not looking to be expelled."

Welsh nodded tightly, suspicious from Hermione's outburst. "Very well. I'll be back soon."

"Yes, you told me."

The man gave Draco one more look, before turning and leaving the dorm, the door clicking quietly behind him.

The blond groaned. _He's going to be such a pain in the arse. A sound like Blaise was on to something, Welsh is strange…too many looks at Granger. _He shook his own head, wandering back to the closed door and peering in. Granger was half awake, and he closed it quietly again. He needed some time to himself, and best to let the girl sleep for now. That kept her out of his hair.

* * *

><p>It was roughly seven that Saturday night when the Wonder Duo stopped by. The two had their wands ready, prepared for a confrontation when Draco opened the portrait hole, and were almost disappointed when he moved away immediately back to his room. Compared to the last few visits, this was far too easy.<p>

Harry gave Ron a cautious expression as they wandered towards Hermione's room, remembering the double door trick that had confused the redhead at first. Opening the left door that led to Hermione's room, Ron stepped in first, cringing at the sight of her. Every time they returned, she was paler, sicker, and skinnier. It was a wonder she hadn't taken up a permanent residence at St. Mungo's yet.

Fortunately, this time she was awake to greet them. "Hey Hermione," Harry said, walking over to the bed and sitting himself on the end. "How are you feeling?"

_How do I look like I'm feeling? _"Better" she lied, and by the short looked exchanged between her two friends, she knew they didn't believe her. "I just haven't been eating much lately."

Ron's face looked drawn out when he spoke. "But you haven't looked well for weeks! What is it 'Mione? What is it that's making you so sick?" He wandered to her side and sat in the chair so few others had. "Tell us, please? We want to help you."

She sighed. _This again?_

* * *

><p>Draco could hear the voices from his side of the wall. <em>At least this time they're semi-quiet. <em>He had the book in front of him, carefully reading the spell he would be saying in two days' time.

He was also looking at the side effects, studying them until he knew the list by heart, just in case the potion took badly to her. _Thank Merlin mother's ancestors thought to document that. If this is how she will react, I may have accidently presumed her dead._

The letter to her lay on the opposite page, the letter he had gone to confront her about. Picking it up, he studied the bottom. It had no name, just a phrase, and didn't make much more sense to him then the context. He scanned the letter again, wondering who it was from:

_How are you feeling, Miss Granger? Tired I would presume, with that nasty little situation you have yourself in. Tell me, has dear Draco threatened to kill you yet? I presume not, or your dorm wouldn't get oh so many visits. I'll be stopping by again soon, and he's always watching. Be on your guard Granger, time's ticking, whether or not Malfoy decides to help you. You simply cannot run forever._

_~Your Dear Friend_

He rolled his eyes. The letter made no sense to him really, but implied quite a bit.

_How are you feeling, Miss Granger? _That sounded a lot like what Welsh said when he came by to check on her. But simply calling her Granger reminded the blond eerily of Theo.

He tossed the letter sideways. That was the only strange letter that had come to the dorm thus far and had been intercepted. There were underlying threats throughout that message, hinting that the sender didn't even really like him. _Ha! That could be Theo or Welsh at this point. _All he knew was that something was off, and whoever was owling her knew damn well what she had, which was surprising. Even her dear friends had no idea.

_Interesting. I will just have to watch everyone with a closer eye._

* * *

><p>It was only an hour later when Hermione's friends finally left; about ten minutes after Blaise arrived. He wore a grim expression that made Draco wonder what on earth was bothering him.<p>

"The school's coming up with their own rumors about you two."

Malfoy chuckled. "That's hardly unexpected."

"Yes well, when people start bothering me because only a few of us can come up here, it irritates me. I cannot wait until she is better, because I am throwing the two of you out into the castle to come up with your own explanations."

Malfoy chuckled again. "Actually, I'll be leaving that up to Granger."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

He smirked. "Part of our deal I think. I don't want to come up with the excuses really, that's more work on my part. Besides, she's the _brilliant _one."

"And you're sure she can do that? There's no reason for her-"

"Trust me, she will," Draco interrupted.

The Italian narrowed his eyes. "Why are you so sure?"

"She will need another three doses of the potion after this first one. If she argues with me, I simply won't give it to her and our entire deal is ended. She will die quickly if she misses a dose."

His friend looked at him in disbelief. "That's cruel, even for you Malfoy."

The blond shrugged. "How else do I make sure she keeps her word?"

He chuckled. "It's Granger. She's honorary, so she will stick to her word, no matter what, unless of course, you really cross a line."

He rolled his eyes. "We'll see. Until she is better, I have the upper hand."

"And when she can walk and talk all by herself, and isn't dependent on you? Have you even considered that she may tell the entire magical community about the secret you harbor? Once that's out, doctors everywhere will want the cure and people will threaten you just to make sure that others with this don't suffer."

"I'm ahead of you Blaise," he replied coyly. "I have an answer to that, don't worry."

His friend looked at him a moment. "I'm not sure I like the sound of that."

Draco laughed. "Maybe you shouldn't."

The pair finally grew silent, sitting quietly in the living room on different pieces of furniture. Hermione's door was open, Draco trying to make sure she didn't die within the next two days. That would ruin a lot of hard work.

"There's something about Welsh I don't like," Zabini said absentmindedly, rubbing his chin. "He spends too much time at this castle for only having one patient, and she always seems to finch when he is around. Seriously Malfoy, have you never gotten a funny feeling about the man?"

"Of course I have," he snapped, glaring at his friend. "However, I have no idea what it is exactly that unsettles me, and I'm not going to look into it too much if I don't have a reason to."

"Of course _not_," Blaise drawled, rolling his eyes. "I don't know Draco, something is wrong with that man. He seems to be a rather useless Healer, allowing Granger to stay here. If he was being serious about his job, he would've never allowed this. Then again, the teachers shouldn't even allow this."

The blond nodded his agreement. "I've noticed the same things. But I've heard a few people slip up when they talk to me. They mention something about protection or fear or something. There is something else going on outside of Granger's sickness, Blaise, and the teachers at this school are working hard to hide it."

He tilted his head. "Interesting. I haven't noticed anything different from our professors, except a bit of concern regarding your roommate."

"Well of course they are going to mask it! If something is the matter, they will try to keep the students in the shadows. The war is over, and although every upperclassman here is completely capable of having a successful duel, the professors will still not allow anyone to help. I don't think they will put students in danger again because the bloody war is over, and they think we're all just going to go back to being _innocent_."

Zabini nodded. "Perhaps. I'll keep my ears open, in case I hear something."

"Great," Draco said, sounding bored.

Blaise glanced at the clock. "I better go."

His blond friend raised an eyebrow. "It's barely nine, and you're leaving on a Saturday night? Shame on you Zabini, you've become boring."

He rolled his eyes. "Hardly. I have someone to meet."

Draco's eyebrows quickly shot up. "Really now? Does she by chance have a friend?"

At this, Blaise laughed outright. "Oh Draco, you really have been in here too long haven't you?"

He scowled. "What do you think?"

He grinned. "No worries Malfoy. If everything goes according to plan like you hope, then you'll be out and about again soon, able to find your own women." Before Draco could reply, Blaise winked and rushed out the door.

The blond rolled his eyes. _Git._

* * *

><p>The next day was rather bleak, clouds overcast causing the mood in the dorm to be low as well. Draco awoke with a groan, remembering very clearly that today he needed to speak with Hermione about the potion, since it would be ready early tomorrow morning.<p>

He was also going to need her to owl her beloved friends so they didn't come up while she was practically comatose.

It was about eleven that morning when he finally drug himself to go see the girl. She was awake, sipping softly from her glass of water, coughing harshly as he walked over to her. The water spilled over the sides of the glass, leaving wet spots on her blankets.

He sighed, snatching the glass from her and drying her bed with a flick off his wand. When she finally regained her composure, he extended the glass towards her and said gruffly, "Have a sip."

She took it again in weak hands, sipping a small bit before handing it back, head down. He placed it on the bedside table and sat in that lonesome seat, something he had not done until that moment.

"I'll be giving you your potion tomorrow." Her head snapped up to look into his grey eyes, her own dull brown ones staring up at him. He continued in an unaffected manor, "You'll be asleep for two days, so I'll need you to owl Potter and the Weasel to not come up here bothering you."

"What do I tell them then?"

He shrugged. "How should I know? They are your bloody friends. Just tell them whatever will keep them away. I don't care what it is."

She nodded. "What will happen?" she asked quietly.

He sighed, knowing she would ask that question. It was vague, and he had half a mind to be a complete ass, but she was already completely defeated and he needed her to remember the important things. "You're just going to go to sleep for two days. After exactly two days, you will wake up, and a lot of the cancer will have been killed. After a week, you'll take it again and only sleep for one day, same process. Building back your physical appearance is your own issue, which I expect to be done by Christmas."

She narrowed her eyes. "Why Christmas?"

He smirked. "You will see. I'll be telling you the conditions of this after you wake up, because I don't want you focusing on anything else just now."

"You're ignoring my question."

_Yes, I am aren't I? _He grabbed a piece of paper and quill, shoving them at her. "Write a letter to your friends real quick and I will send it."

She tilted her head. "Why am I writing a letter?"

_Merlin's balls. _"To make sure Potter and Weasley don't come up while you look dead."

"I'm going to die?"

He rolled his eyes. "Just tell them you have to be on complete bed rest the next few days and can have no visitors. They can ask McGonagall otherwise, but I will handle her. Now write that, quickly!"

She blinked several times. "Why?"

He wanted desperately to strangle the girl, but clenched his fists instead. _That's not going to accomplish anything Draco. _"Because I need you to do this, so that no one comes and disturbs you while the potion is working. That, my dear, could be fatal."

She frowned, opened her mouth to ask him why exactly, when he abruptly turned and headed out the door. "Don't worry yourself too much Granger, I'll have it all explained tomorrow. Now write! I want to see this letter before you send it too." With that, he shut the door.

Hermione didn't like that, not one bit. It sounded like he was trying to control her, and that wasn't something she agreed with. Yes, she would undeniably be in his debt for saving her life, but that didn't give him control over her. She was not a slave; the deal may originally have been sealed with slavery, but she would not become property of Draco Malfoy, ever.

Even in her current state of mind, she was quite determined with that fact.

* * *

><p>After reading her letter intended to her friends-much to Hermione's dismay-the blond had disappeared for the rest of the night. He did however, owl McGonagall about Granger needing her last few days alone before making her way to St. Mungo's, and had full (unexpected) permission to ignore anyone he chose.<p>

It was 8:45 the next morning when he looked around, checking the potion. It was October 22, and time to seal Granger's fate. Last night had brought him a minimum amount of sleep, having found himself actually way too concerned about her to close his eyes.

_I blame that on her. Damn Gryffindors._

He rolled his eyes, checking the time. 8:47. He needed to remove the potion five minutes early from the cauldron, and wait until exactly nine before he made Granger down the entire thing. First things first though, he needed to make sure she was awake and all for this.

Reluctantly, he walked to the room he had been successfully ignoring since early last night. Pushing the door open he found Granger awake, looking a bit afraid and more than a little suspicious of him.

He chuckled. "Morning, Granger."

"Malfoy," she replied, voice as terrible as ever. "Do you have it?"

"Still a few minutes Granger," he replied, running his eyes over her quickly. _She's weak. I'm not sure her body can even handle it. All those effects it can have, I'm not quite sure if she will cope. _"Stay awake until then, since you'll be out like a light the next two days."

She pursed her lips. It was uncomfortable to think Malfoy would be there as she slept, unable to wake up, and he could do anything if he wanted. It was unsettling. "Malfoy?"

"Yes again Granger?"

"You'll leave me alone while I sleep, yes?"

He rolled his eyes. "As if I would want to see you anyways. The only time I'll be visiting you will be when I come to see you wake up. Now stop being paranoid, it's annoying." He glanced at the clock. 8:51.

"So what do you want from me," she asked quietly.

He frowned. "What?"

"What do you want from me in exchange?"

He chuckled. "Don't worry your pretty little head about that. Get better, and then I'll tell you what I want."

She opened her mouth to say something more, but he cut her off. "Stay awake a moment Granger, I'm going to go get your bloody potion." He turned quickly and left the room, before she could attack him with yet another question.

We walked back to the potion, checking the time. 8:55 exactly. He quickly poured it into the bottle he had prepared, corked it and walked back to Granger's room once more, realizing he was doing far too much walking and inwardly cursed himself for not thinking about just bringing the damn cauldron into her room.

"Malfoy you can't leave me hanging," she said, as he walked back in.

He clicked his tongue. "Contraire Granger, I believe I can. I do, after all, hold your last chance." He held up the bottle, smirking. "Now, sit up so you don't bloody choke."

She pushed herself up and he stared at the clock, handing it to her a moment later as it became nine am. She looked hesitant for a moment, and he quickly urged her to drink before it became 9:01. She sighed, before tilting her head back and drinking the revolting liquid.

He watched the liquid disappear, forcing her to keep drinking when he saw some being left behind. She sputtered, choking down the last bit before he snatched the bottle away.

Peacefully falling into any kind of sleep would just be too easy, wouldn't it?"

As he had expected, she started twitching and crashed back into her pillows, her body freaking out as though she were suffering from a seizure. He flinched; it was not a pretty sight.

Her body continued to spasm for the next several minutes, and he began to vaguely wonder if he had accidently killed her and this was the process. He immediately shook that thought away however, as part of the book replayed in his mind: _Each person suffers differently. Killing cancer is a painful process, and will not be noticed by the person in question, but outside parties who will watch the cure rip someone apart before building them back together._

This was going to be an extremely unpleasant two days. He groaned, and her body finally calmed down, lying still on the pillows.

He instinctly reached out for a pulse, ignoring for the briefest moment that she was a filthy Mudblood. As soon as he felt the gentle beat, he snapped his hand back, disgusted. Grabbing her blanket, he threw it over her body and stormed out.

_At least when she was awake there was something to do_, he thought bitterly, faced now with an empty two days and probably lots of people coming around to bug the shit out of him. _Just what I need._

He walked into his bedroom after walking around the living room twice, and fell on his bed, completely disregarding the book and any warnings it may have for what would be happening to Granger.


	10. This Pain is Just Too Real

**a/n:** So, this is kind of a filler chapter, but things still happen! Soon, we'll find out what Draco wants! And I sincerely apologize for the delay! I got this back on the 29, but my account was suspended because I had an inappropriate title, so I wasn't able to update until today :( Hope you guys enjoy anyways!

And, a much more accurate French spell thanks to a reviewer, **Tedd**! Everyone thank Tedd for helping me with my failing spell. I'm told it's much better now.

* * *

><p><strong>Jelisha Baby 22: <strong>Romance? We are building, but not quite yet darling :)

**justine: **It would! I guess you'll have to read and see if I actually did that...

**Eric: **I don't think he'd let her die...remember, he's been complaining the whole time about that! He would "have wasted a lot of time". Anyways, more on the secret here! Although, I don't think it will help you very much...

**Daddy: **Well tell me when you finish reading...was this a biggie?

**They Call Me Ginger: **Here here here! :)

**Bambi: **Actually yes! There are some listed below.

**ninjawhoishiding: **Well, here's the update!

* * *

><p><strong>This Pain is Just too Real<strong>

Tuesday October 23, Minerva paced back and forth in her office, gazing out her window every so often that Snape began to wonder if the woman had lost her mind. The movement was completely out of character, which just alerted him once again how much stress she was really under.

"I don't understand Severus," she said, finally taking her seat once more. "He couldn't have gotten out so easily-I've never heard of someone breaking free while on their way to Azkaban. Why weren't we alerted before?"

"Because until recently this posed no immediate threat. We have had our suspicions up until now Minerva, but this has proven them. He escaped from his fate in Azkaban, and now he has done something to Miss Granger."

"Yes but the question is what? Despite her illness, I have noticed nothing wrong with the girl. What she has is cancer. He didn't give her anything that could've been passed on. It doesn't make any sense."

Severus nodded his head, thinking slowly. "It's something we cannot see Minerva. Why else would the Ministry have received the letter? He's planning something, and he obviously has Miss Granger at the center of it all. Whatever it is though, he's going to try and keep hidden for as long as possible. That's why Mr. Malfoy must be around her at all times, to ensure that she is constantly protected."

"It's absurd," she snapped. "Placing a student under the protection of another student? That's why we have Auror's out there, to do jobs like this. She should be at St. Mungo's, where she could get help instead of wasting away here because Mr. Malfoy is oblivious to everything but himself and refuses to follow her there."

He stood, walked over to the desk and placed his hands lightly on the mahogany wood. "We both know the answer to that. For whatever reason, there are people in the Ministry who believe Mr. Malfoy will be one of the first to recognize him if he appears, and he will hopefully keep the girl alive. The boy worked alongside him long enough to know his little quirks, to notice the differences that others would not. She may be dying from disease, but it's better than what he could possibly have planned."

Minerva glared. "_You _worked alongside him, as did every other death eater out there! There are multitudes of Auror's that know him by sight; what makes Mr. Malfoy so special in this case? We're endangering both students this way."

He sighed. "Yes, but he spent a bit of…_extra _time with him one day, when his father became a bit lazy with his _punishments_. Mr. Malfoy got to know him rather well, unfortunately for him."

The Headmistress was quiet for several moments. "I understand that Severus, but there is still a constant threat either way, whether they remain here or there. Hogwarts maybe the safest place for Miss Granger to be, but even someone like Mr. Malfoy who _knows _this man cannot be guaranteed to act quickly enough. I fear that no matter what is done, Miss Granger could die a horrible death before her disease takes her."

The potions teacher raised an eyebrow. "Before? Minerva, have you become blind? Miss Granger is on her deathbed, holding on-but just barely. It's ridiculous that you allow Mr. Malfoy to decide for her to stay here in the first place."

Her eyes twinkled, just a little bit. "I have my reasons."

"What reason could you have to agree to something you just said you're obviously against?"

She tilted her head slightly, glancing out at the sky where a dark midnight shape was approaching. "You would be surprised Severus," she said, walking to the ajar window as her owl returned, a letter tied to its leg. She pet the creature's head, stroking its feathers as she gave it a treat. Taking the letter from it and breaking the seal, she scanned the contents quickly. "Sometimes curious things happen."

He narrowed his eyes as her face broke into the softest of smiles. "What is that then?" He inclined his head towards the paper. "Your belief system?"

She sighed. "It's a letter, from a friend in the Ministry. She is just letting me know that Miss Granger will be getting well soon."

His eyes suddenly widened. "And how would your friend know that? Miss Granger's Healer is male and as I recall, Sarcoma is incurable at this time. What good will it do to trust someone from the Ministry about things they aren't even involved in versus the actual Healer?"

She chuckled. "As far as most of us know, it is incurable. But some of us out there seem to have…_special _connections."

"Then someone has found a way to help her? Interesting, but I hardly see how it would do any good at this stage. I've read Welsh's reports, and may I say that is a truly creepy little man, but she seems too far gone for any treatments. I hope whatever has been found will work against her odds."

"Yes, so do I." She took the letter and placed it beneath a stack of papers, so to anyone who came in it just appeared to be another paper, yet be able to grab it quickly. "I just wish I had more faith in the student giving her the cure."

Snape once again looked perplexed, giving his new boss an odd stare. "Mr. Malfoy has it then?"

She nodded. "He prepared it as well, from what I gather. Those two seem to have gotten away with quite a bit up there in the Head Student's current room."

He took a seat. "And how long has Mr. Malfoy apparently been stealing my potions ingredients," he asked, arching another eyebrow.

"He hasn't stolen anything from what I have been told; actually, quite the opposite. He had a relative buy them for him and then he reimbursed her."

"Would that perhaps be the same person you are owling?

She nodded. "Yes, she alerted me some days ago that he would be administering the potion and incantation to her all on his own, although she wasn't exactly sure how it worked. I don't entirely understand it myself, but somewhere along the lines, the Black Family obtained a cure to the disease, a truly awful cure."

"I have heard of that," Snape duly noted, not bothering to explain. "But what makes it so awful?"

The Headmistress pursed her lips. "You will see soon Severus, I assure you."

* * *

><p>Draco had found the last 24 hours rather boring since putting Hermione under the influence of the potion. He had another 16 hours before she would wake up, and in that time it would probably be good to learn the incantation, so he didn't accidently kill her.<p>

_That would really put me in a foul mood. All this effort, just to end up with a dead Mudblood. That would truly be a waste of my time._

So there he sat, in the living room, open book propped on his crossed legs, staring at the words in front of him. They weren't hard, not at all, but the meaning behind them put him a bit ill at ease with their deal. Did he really want Granger eternally bound to him?

Again, he read the spell:

_Arrache-les à la maladie, la douleur, le sang premier qui fut agonie. Fait disparaître ces pensées qui détruisent leurs âmes, ces souffrances, et ce qui brûle leurs estomacs. Offre leur le vide, la clareté et le bien être. Prend-les, et dépose-les à mes côtés, éternellement liés, et plus longtemps encore._

He just didn't like the sound of that.

Sighing, he sat the book down, and walked back into the kitchen, where he was already preparing the next dose of her potion. Today he had added the Celery Seed, and tomorrow he had to add another two ingredients in between her waking. The days would become quite packed on top of everything, and each time she woke up from her little sleep he would need to repeat the damn spell.

He placed his hands on either side of his cauldron, forcing his eyes closed. The stress of possibly killing Granger had set in yesterday, when he had been passing her room and had once again seen the seizure-like symptoms. They were appearing too often as far as he was concerned, and it was drawing a line of worry.

He focused his mind on a page in the book, talking all about the side effects to the potion he had given her:

_Each patient will experience different side effects from the potion, ranging from minor to severe, dependent on consistency. Often, it is natural for the body to be against the first dose of this potion, since it has got difficult ingredients for one's body to take in. The following lists the effects one may run across:_

_-irritated, red patches of skin_

_-vivid nightmares/flashbacks_

_-vomiting (once the patient wakes up)_

_-seizures or muscle spasms_

_-choking up blood_

_-collapsing when walking_

_-unable to breathe_

_Several of the symptoms are the same as those of the actual disease, and can be mistaken as such. Be warned, this does not mean the patient is dying, simply that the cure is taking badly to their person. If symptoms continue a week after the last dose, see Endings (page 178)._

He sighed again. Hopefully, Granger would be just fine, and make his life a bit easier. Those added side effects would be hard to treat, since he suspected that adding extra potions into her system to help ease her along would only be disastrous. No, anything like that would cause him more work, and he was done working for Granger's benefit when she woke up.

_She can fix her own problems on her own time. I promised a few things, and that's the bottom line. I am not required under any circumstances to help her with the side effects! But, the poor bitch is required to start working on her end of the deal as soon as I see fit._

He smirked to himself, standing upright again. Damn Granger, she had plenty of pretty little friends to come and save her, but he would be as far as possible, living in the benefits of having her under his control.

_Until I let the Mudblood go._

* * *

><p>It was barely an hour later when Draco heard the distant knocking on the portrait outside. He groaned, leaving Granger's side, where he had found himself for the past twenty minutes.<p>

He couldn't quite decide what had propelled him to go sit by her after deciding she was going to be almost useless after this, except for his few requirements. Yet, he couldn't help himself. He was curious, curious about when she would next be affected, curious about whether or not something serious would happen.

As he walked to the door, he shook his head. _Merlin, I've become creepy, watching Mudblood's sleep…_

He opened the portrait a bit, expecting to find some of Granger's lovely Gryffindor friends, but found himself facing one person instead.

"What is it Nott," he asked, setting out and shutting the door with a thud, leaning back against it to comfortably glare at the other boy. He had already had the displeasure of running into her friend's last night, after they tried to see her because "the letter was a load of bollocks".

He gave the blond a stony expression in return. "I've come to see if that sickly Mudblood in there is dead yet."

Draco raised an eyebrow, but didn't betray his own irritation to the boy. "Is that really any of your concern, Nott? I think I have stated that before. Whatever your strange fascination is with my Gryffindor roommate, it'll have to wait. She's asleep."

"Look at that; Draco Malfoy is concerned about waking up his little slut."

Silver-grey eyes rolled. "Honestly Theo, is that what people are saying? That's probably the most pathetic rumor I've ever heard. I mean, without the actual knowledge and proof, that lie is unbelievable. How could anyone possibly believe that, given our histories? I swear, the people here are fucking idiots."

The Slytherin narrowed his eyes. "Unfortunately Malfoy, you spend so much time locked away in that room with her, what are people supposed to think? It truly seems like you two are shagging, and if she wasn't a dirty little bitch, I'd agree with your choice."

_I'd agree with your choice? _"Weren't you just asking me moments ago if she dead, and how my slut was doing? You don't seem to have any clear idea what you're saying."

He glared. "Trust me; I'm not saying _I want her_. Quite the opposite, I think she needs to just get over it and die already. But, if she were a bit healthier, I wouldn't mind running into her in an empty corridor."

The blond rolled his eyes. "You have all sorts of twisted thoughts in that warped mind of yours, don't you?"

He shrugged. "As if you haven't thought the same. A Mudblood's good for one thing Draco, to be used and thrown away."

_Ah, so maybe that's why you're so interested in her, so you know whether or not your next toy is available or not. _"Whatever Nott, but when she does get better, don't be the cause of her running back up here, terrified. I don't want the headache that will come with that."

He sneered, and Draco frowned at the bad imitation of himself. "She won't be running."

"That's enough Nott; I hardly want to know what goes on in your mind." He turned back to the portrait. "Fuck off, I'm tired of standing out here, listening to you talk about absolutely nothing."

There was a pause as Draco waited for him to leave, and there was a long pregnant silence before Nott spoke up. "He got away."

The blond inwardly swore, turning back. "Now who are you going on about?"

Theo grinned. "So he hasn't contacted you then, about her?"

His eyes narrowed. "Who?"

His housemate chuckled, taking a few steps back. "Interesting, that he hasn't gotten a hold of you, not unexpected though; Zabini wasn't asked either. I suppose he's realized in the past month just where your allegiances lie."

Draco's eyes narrowed still. _Whoever he is, he must work in the school; or else have someone inside here watching. How else would this nameless bastard know that I've been around Granger-_

_The Mudblood! He hasn't contacted me about her…it's entirely possible that Nott is referring to Granger, although I hardly understand what interest anyone could have with her in her current state. She's too weak to even torture properly._

Nott was still looking at him, waiting for a reply, but Draco forced all those thoughts into the back of his mind. "What is that supposed to mean?"

He held up his hands innocently. "Nothing Malfoy. As I said, it's interesting."

He absentmindedly played with his wand, nestled just inside his pocket. "Interesting or practical?"

Theo frowned. "Why would you say practical?"

This time, Malfoy was the one who smirked. "Nothing, Nott. Now really, I have to watch the sick Head Girl. As I have _repeatedly _said to you, I won't be blamed for her death." He mumbled the password quietly, so that Nott wouldn't hear, and stepped inside, but stopped when he didn't hear the portrait slide shut. Turning, he saw Nott grasping the frame, sliding his way in.

Draco drew his wand. "Get out of my fucking dorm Nott. I've grown tired of your persistence."

For the second time, Nott held up his hands innocently. "I want to see the Mudblood, Malfoy. I hardly believed you when you spouted off the lie to me about her being asleep." He scrunched up his face. "She's dead if she's asleep."

_Oh Nott, you daft twit. _"Trust me, she isn't dead."

Nott looked to the bedroom door of Granger's room, seeming to ponder Malfoy's words. They were silent for a moment, not even moving, before Nott turned back and grinned wickedly at Draco. "I knew it."

Now he was completely confused. "Fantastic, would you like to tell me what you figured out then?"

The grin remained, and Theo drew his wand as well, aiming at Draco as he backed up towards Granger's room. "I'm not stupid Malfoy, I've figured out your ploy."

Draco arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. "You're not the only one with a cure you know," he spat. "I may not have hers, but I'm certain now that you do."

"Stupify," he snapped, but Nott repelled it, only to be hit by ropes that bound around his body and forced him into the ground moments later. "Congratulations then Nott," he replied dryly, coming to stand just above the boy, looking slightly bored. "You've discovered something I am sure most Pureblood families will consider when she is better."

Nott grinned from his position on the floor. "Yes, they will. And how will you deny them then? What will they say when they realize Draco Malfoy has resorted to helping Mudblood's. Tell me, what is in it for you? Are you going to use her to restore your name in society or something?"

He glared. "Fuck off Theo; you have no idea what my reasoning is." He flicked his wrist and the other boy's wand flew lightly into his palm. "And I'm not too worried about what people will think. They can worry as much as they would like, and think whatever they want, but so long as that book is in my possession, no one has any proof. And once Granger has to listen to me, no one ever will."

Theo glared. "Except me. I'll ruin you Malfoy. When I tell him-"

"Honestly Nott, I don't care who you tell, because no one can prove it. Whoever this man is that you're obviously loyal to, he doesn't affect me. Blimy, I don't even know who the bloke is."

The boy on the ground sneered. "You'll know eventually Malfoy, when he kills the Mudblood."

He narrowed his eyes into silver slits, wordlessly removing the ropes from Nott's body simply to have the satisfaction of grabbing the collar of his robe and throwing him into the nearby wall. Stunned, he slumped to the ground, refusing to let out the groan of pain that was threatening to push past his lips.

"Look Nott, I'll make one thing very clear," he snapped, kneeling down a bit away from Theo, but so that they were nearly at eye level, the brown haired boy looking at him through narrowed slits too. "I haven't gone through the trouble of keeping Granger alive to be told these charming stories about the disturbing things you could do to her and the multiple ways you want her dead. It's pathetic really. If you were meaning to do these things you would have tried far harder, or simply not brought up the issue at all. Nonetheless, tomorrow Granger is technically my property, unless I give up that ownership, and I tend to take good care of my property Nott." He glared, resisting the urge to stand and kick this strange boy for the sadistic look that came over his face each time Draco mentioned property. "Meaning, if I come to find out you're playing these games with her in the corridors, you'll have _me _to answer to."

The boy's face twisted into a scowl. "You're quite protective of her Malfoy, despite your apparent carelessness a few minutes ago when I was mentioning those things."

"I thought it would be dropped, not persisted to no end. Just leave her alone Nott, and forget whatever twisted ideas you have; you and whoever contacted you."

"Don't like the idea of what I could do to your property then? Pity, she's rather-"

He was abruptly cut off by a sudden, swift kick to the rips. He yelped from the pain, and found himself being drug upwards, standing nose-to-nose with the slightly hunched Malfoy. "Look Nott, enough of this. Stay the fuck away from her. You can find some other target to take out your hate on, but if Granger's my property, she's under my care." He shoved the boy back, who stumbled but never lost eye contact. "And you're stuck on the ideas of someone who was killed by a seventeen year old. There is no hope in your 'pure society' beliefs anymore, even I can see that."

"You've just lost your vision," Nott spat back.

"Actually I think becoming friendly towards Mudblood Granger will do me good. I might even get looks from people I actually give a fuck about if I parade the streets with her."

He scoffed. "Then you have lost our path entirely. Mudblood's are always beneath us Malfoy, no matter how you look at it."

Instead of replying, Draco bit down any retort he had and began twirling Theo's wand between his fingers, watching the boy's eyes follow his movements. He titled his head just a fraction, noting for future reference that he did not seem to be able to do silent or wandless magic, unlike the blond.

"If you want your wand back, you better walk right out of my dorm Nott, considering you snuck your way in here." His voice was calm, collected, and that only alerted to Theo that Malfoy's mood was souring by the minute.

He glanced at Granger's bedroom door again, unable to see her bed from his position. He needed to see her again, wanted to see the vulnerable state she was in, but was certain the annoying blond would get in his way long before he could do anything. Deciding to pretend to give up for now, he threw his hands up and stormed towards the door, angry that he couldn't get a look at Granger.

_I know he's saving her now, at least that's something. It ruins everything though! All the effort we have put in to destroy her, dashed away by this arrogant Malfoy and his cocky attitude. _He stomped out of the dorm, standing just outside with his arm extended, waiting for the return of his wand.

Draco just raised an amused eyebrow. "Why should I simply give this to you if you're going to go off and tell people about the cure I hold?"

He rolled his dark eyes. "Because, like you said, without the proof _and _apparently the way you did it, no one will believe a damn word I say."

"True," Draco mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "but that would be too dangerous, don't you think?"

Theo narrowed his eyes. "My wand, Malfoy," he said through gritted teeth.

He clicked his tongue. "But of course Mr. Nott, once I escort you down to the Slytherin dungeons."

"Ha! It's not even past curfew, don't be absurd."

Draco shrugged. "Don't argue with the Head Boy Nott, those kinds of things can get you detention."

Theo's gaze hardened again. "Fine _Malfoy_, let's head to the bloody dungeons." He turned and stormed down the hallway, aggravated with how things were turning out.

He wasn't about to take Malfoy on right then. The boy had proven in the dorm room that he had some major physical strength, and he was also quite aware that before Lucius Malfoy had fallen out of favor of the Dark Lord, Draco had been trained in wandless and nonverbal magic.

The blond followed behind a few feet back, following Nott down to the dungeons. He passed by Blaise on the way, and stalled him for a half moment, eyes never leaving Nott's back.

"Go up to my dorm and check on Granger. I'll be up in a minute."

"Wh-"

"Just go," he hissed, leaving to follow the retreating form of Theo who was apparently either too stubborn or too stupid to check that he was actually following. He barely even registered that Pansy was beside Zabini when he spoke.

Draco stopped at the beginning of the last hallway to the Slytherin dungeons. "Nott!" He turned back and glared, watching him hold up his wand. "I leave you here now."

"It's about time," he muttered, walking back and snapping the wand out of the pale had. He had half a mind to hex him, but decided it was best to save that for later. He didn't spare a goodbye to Draco as he turned and resumed walking.

_That's fine with me Nott. _He watched Theo walk a few more meters, tilting his head just barely as he silently spoke, not using his wand. _Obliviate. _

He watched with satisfaction as the green-blue beam of color slammed into the other boy, erasing their talk from his memory completely.

_I have to keep my secrets to myself Nott, but thank you. You've given me some more hints, if nothing else. And, a reason to watch you when Granger wakes up._

* * *

><p>By the time Draco arrived back in his common room, Blaise was in checking on Granger, a rather pale looking Pansy beside him.<p>

"What did you do to her," she hissed.

He rolled his eyes. "_I _didn't do that to her, all I did was induce her current state of sleep."

She frowned, leaning in a bit to look closer at Granger's pale form, refusing to move from her spot by the door. "That's how sick she's been? She's truly sick?"

"No Pansy, she always looks that awful," the blond replied, folding his arms with a scowl.

Blaise was in the chair by her side, eyebrows drawn together. "Any side effects?"

"Some, but only one so far."

He nodded, still watching Granger intently, as though he could find all the answers in her still, comatose form. "What was Nott doing up here?"

"Being a nuisance, as always."

Zabini looked up for a moment, one eyebrow arched. "What could he possibly bring up that he already hasn't?"

Draco shook his head. "I'll explain later."

Pansy looked over at him, frowning. "Hold on a minute Malfoy. Just because I am in the vicinity doesn't mean you can't tell Blaise why Theo was up here earlier, which is apparently a _bad _thing."

Blaise looked up at her sharply. "Pansy he's disturbed. I wouldn't trust him in a room alone with any woman, especially one that isn't awake."

The dark-haired girl glanced at the unconscious Hermione. "She will wake up from that, won't she?"

"Tomorrow," Draco replied, running a hand through his hair. "And then we get to discuss my half of the deal."

Pansy's eyes widened. "Deal? My god Draco, what did you do?"

He scoffed. "Really Pansy, I'm sure you already know."

She didn't reply. Of course she knew! Every Pureblood wizard out there could guess what this was; a slave deal. She shuddered lightly. _Leave it to Malfoy to go back to that magic. _"Why did you do that to her Draco! Magic today-"

"Still has no cure for her cancer," he finished, cutting her off. "I offered her a chance to survive, and she recently took me up on my offer, stubborn girl. You know as well as I do Pansy that these things come with a difficult price, and the slave half of this deal must be acted upon for a while before you can break that part of the deal."

"Does she know that?"

"Definitely not. When she finally took he potion, her mind was fairly gone-you can ask Blaise if you don't believe me! I wasn't about to heap information on her that she wouldn't remember anyways. When she wakes up I'll explain that to her and my terms and conditions."

Pansy nodded stiffly, wrapping her arms around herself. "Those are still awful Draco, even if your terms for her are light, which is doubtful." She rubbed her arms and Blaise walked over to them, rubbing her back lightly. "You have no idea what it's like to be a slave Draco."

"No, I don't suppose I do."

Pansy sighed. "Go easy on her-I mean, with the terms, you know?"

He nodded, wrapping an arm around her. "Of course."

He smiled lightly at the two, wishing she had decided to remain in the corridor instead of following Blaise up there out of curiosity-and against his protests that she wouldn't like it.

"Now what did Theo do?" she asked, and Draco sighed, gesturing for them to walk into the living room. The three sat down, and he recounted the events to them, right up to obliviating Theo's mind so he wouldn't go off telling anyone.

Pansy frowned. "You're right, something is definitely wrong with him."

Zabini nodded his agreement. "I wonder who he is partnered up with," he mused.

"So do I," the blond replied, running tired fingers through his hair. "I never understand what people around here are hinting at."

Pansy opened her mouth to question him, but Blaise shook his head once and mouthed "I'll tell you later" to her. She didn't respond.

The three talked for the next few minutes, musing over what Theo meant, how Hermione would be when she woke up, and Pansy's determination to be there when she woke up, but Draco sternly shook his head.

"She'll be confused enough when she wakes up, and I'll be throwing different snippets of information at her, not to mention food. This is hardly a good idea. I think her healer is even stopping by."

She sighed. "Fine, Thursday then, but I want to see her."

Draco nodded, stiffly. Of course, Granger was going to think the girl completely crazy when she stepped willingly into her room, but she had her reasons and both boys knew it; she wanted to make sure Hermione turned out better than she ever had.

They spoke for another few minutes, before Blaise glanced at the clock and declared that they should get going if they planned to avoid curfew. After a few quick goodbyes and Draco's promise to Pansy again that she could indeed come check on Hermione on Thursday, they departed, Blaise standing rather close to her as they began walking back.

Halfway down the hall, he grabbed her and kissed her softly, feeling the smile on her lips. She pulled away a moment later, eyebrow raised playfully.

"You could have done that hours ago you know. I'm sure Draco won't bite, considering he doesn't fancy me at all."

"I know," Blaise sighed, wrapping an arm loosely around her waist. "But we only started dating a few days ago, and Malfoy's had enough on his mind lately. I figured that once Granger wakes up I'll tell him, once his mind settles a bit."

Pansy nodded, leaning into her boyfriend a bit to nip at his lower ear. "I enjoyed the other night."

Blaise chuckled. "Yes, it's interesting how one night stands have become this." He gestured with his hand as they walked down the hall.

"Yes well, I think once we met up a second time, that one night stand became mute."

"I suppose so," he agreed, pulling her down the hall. They were practically in the common room when she spoke again.

"Do you think Nott would do that to someone?" she asked in a low voice, relieved that he wasn't around as they wandered towards a couch away from the few remaining Slytherin's, most off asleep after the day's difficult classes.

"What?" he asked, looking at her.

She bit her lip. "Do what he was talking about with Granger-take someone in the hallway."

His eyes darkened. "Nott talks a lot, but he rarely lives up to his words." He gently rested a hand on her cheek. "Besides, you have nothing to worry about. You're too close to me and Draco for that bloke to try something."

She glanced around, clasping his hand. "I hope you're right."

* * *

><p>Draco was watching her scream.<p>

It had started after Blaise and Pansy left, Blaise walking rather close to her, almost protectively. Draco had been about to consider the matter when her screams ripped through the empty space. He had made a run to her room, wand drawn, not expecting to see her thrashing around the bed as though she were being torn apart, having forgotten for a moment that she couldn't wake up.

He found it strange that someone who was basically comatose was able to have this much of a reaction to the potion while under its influence. _Damn old-magic cure, making everything seems backwards._

Now he sat at her bedside, eyes a bit wider than normal, waiting for her to bloody calm down. This wasn't going to help her throat any.

He vaguely wondered what she could be dreaming about.

It lasted almost twenty minutes, and to Draco it seemed like the longest twenty minutes of his life. Who knew watching someone scream in what sounded like pain could be so tiring? But he knew he wouldn't be sleeping until she was awake the following morning, not with those vivid screams echoing through his damn head.

He groaned, reclining back into the chair a bit. _Damn Gryffindor._

* * *

><p>By the time the sun broke over the horizon, painting the sky in a mixture of reds and pinks and yellows like graphic flowers, Draco wanted to pass out. She was calm at least, and would hopefully remain that way until he woke her up in three hours.<p>

In fact, she hadn't had another seizure or nightmare after the first, which made him inwardly hope it wouldn't make her sicker, if that were even possible. _I'd probably lose my mind if that happened. _

He glanced at the clock, noting that he had six hours before he needed to go back to the potion. That was good at least; it gave him time to speak to her about everything. He stood, going to change and make himself something to eat again.

Draco did whatever meaningless work he could do until a quarter until 9, even looking at something Herbology of all things! He was inwardly cursing himself for become that utterly worried. _It's the Mudblood, get a grip!_

_But it's the Mudblood that's going to be under your care and watchful eye in fifteen minutes until you chose to release her. Besides, Nott and Welsh are running around this place like crazy! You're going to be doing her a favor, keeping her protected for a bit._

He groaned at his own thoughts. _Merlin's balls!_

The forgotten book sat on a table he had conjured nearly, there in case he forgot, but he was already certain he knew it by heart. With little less than ten minutes left, he studied her.

Her skin was practically paler then his and he cringed at the sight of her seemingly lifeless body. Her eyes had large bags under them from her restless sleep, and the spot in her arm where he had hooked up one of those muggle IV's to avoid any potion interference had turned red and irritated. He frowned, realizing he had probably been the cause of that problem. _Stupid muggle device!_

Through the baggy clothing he could see the outline of her skinny figure, bones visible in several places. The skin on her arms was tight, outlining the bones well. He crinkled his nose, having never realized how skinny she really was. The same thought crossed his mind again:

_She's been dying too fast. _His thoughts drifted to Nott for a moment, who was rather curious every time he came up about whether or not she was dead or not, but shook his head clear a minute later. The clock clearly read one minute to 9 now, and he had to begin now or be cutting it too close.

Drawing his wand, he pointed it at Granger, watching the soft pink mist rush over his body as he spoke the simple words to move her off the bed_. "Lève-la jusqu'à moi."_ He watched her body rise up just a bit, thinking for the briefest of moments how it was vaguely interesting that he had to use a different levitating spell for this as well.

Taking a breath, he carefully repeated the words he had memorized yesterday:

_Arrache-les à la maladie, la douleur, le sang premier qui fut agonie. Fait disparaître ces pensées qui détruisent leurs âmes, ces souffrances, et ce qui brûle leurs estomacs. Offre leur le vide, la clareté et le bien être. Prend-les, et dépose-les à mes côtés, éternellement liés, et plus longtemps encore._

The pale red beam drifted lazily over to her, fattening until it was large enough and sank onto her body, fading into a mist as it came in contact with her skin. Her eyes burst open and she fell the few inches back on the bed, coughing.

Draco paused in time. _That actually worked? And I didn't even kill the Mudblood! Brilliant. _

He grabbed the new glass of water from her bedside table, handing it to her slightly shaking form. She took it and guzzled down the beverage, wincing when the poorly placed needle in her arm moved uncomfortably. She took several deep breaths before looking back at the blond boy next to her, who was now smirking widely.

She looked between him and the needle, extending the now empty glass into his hand to inspect the muggle device. He had obviously done it himself, because although she saw no sign of him having hit one of her blood vessels, she was sure it was stuck.

Hermione fell back again onto the covers, meeting his silver eyes. "So what is it you want Malfoy?"

* * *

><p>Spell translation (French) Roughly: Hard to the disease, pain, blood that was first agony. Eliminated these thoughts that destroy their souls, suffering, and what burns their stomachs. Offer their emptiness, clarity and well being. Takes them, and place them beside me, forever linked, and even longer.<p>

Levitating spell translation: Lift me up to the_._

**a/n: **So once more, any ideas on Draco's requirements? Next chapter you will definitely be getting them! That, and a bit more insight on everything! Let me know what you're thinking in your prized reviews!


	11. There is Just Too Much That

**A/n: **check out my new stories Man in the Mirror, Imagine, and Dead Reality. Enjoy! Also, this chapter is now edited!**  
><strong>

**Bambi: **Well, you'll get to see...

**They Call Me Ginger: **Good!

**Eric: **Hmm, it's possible...as for Pansy, that will be explained eventually. For now, we have some drama to deal with!

**justine: **Possibly...

**ninjawhoishiding: **All in due time!And here you go :) More mystery awaits...

* * *

><p><strong>There is just too much That<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Hermione fell back again onto the covers, meeting his silver eyes. "So what is it you want Malfoy?"<em>

He stared at her, his confused eyes narrowing and his lips turning down into a scowl. "Fuck Granger, is that really the first thing you have to say to me?"

She coughed again, and she pushed herself up. Draco was just grateful to see that she could manage the act on her own without cringing. _It's a start. _She looked up at him again, eyes wide. "Malfoy?" He cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing; waiting for the rant that he was sure would be coming soon.

She flexed her fingers repeatedly and rolled her shoulders, eyes wide as she moved and lifted her arms above her head, apparently marveling at the action. She shook her legs several times, flexing and pointing her toes as a large grin grew across her face. She glanced at the Slytherin who gave her an odd look as she swung her legs off the side of the bed, standing upright on her own two feet, not feeling any sort of pain.

The joyous look that overtook her face next was nothing compared to the quick bout of dancing she put on. He stood in a daze as she did unsteady turns and jumped twice, reveling in the ability to move without unbearable pain racking through her body.

A few moments later, she stumbled and fell into the floor, letting out a small 'oof' as she fell, landing on her once injured side and staring at the ceiling.

Draco frowned. _She's lost her mind, dancing around like a drunken idiot and falling all over the floor. Merlin, she's going to kill herself before I can even get her to eat! _Huffing, he walked up to her and drug her up into a standing position, hands locked firmly around her forearms.

"Would you sit still?"

She stared up at him, dazed. "Malfoy, please remove yourself from my person."

He laughed cruelly. "Shut up Granger. I could've just left you on the floor, after all. Be happy I've decided to soil my hands today by touching you." He didn't wait for a response and instead moved her forcefully back to her bed, plopping her down on the edge. "Now stay, I'll go find something to eat."

Hermione glared. "I'm not a bloody dog Malfoy."

At this, he smirked. "I see you have that charming attitude back. At least I know its fucking working. Now sit still a moment, you're body needs time to adjust to being able to move freely again. The next time you fall over however, I'm leaving you on the floor."

She rolled her eyes. "That sounds like-" she cut off to cough again "-you."

He nodded. "Yes, good observation oh wondrous Mudblood."

Once Draco had returned with food, having completely ignored Hermione's angry response to his words, he forced her to eat everything he had brought plus the liquid before he would even begin to really talk to her. _She's my property right now, I'll be damned if she dies from malnourishment. _

When she was finally done, Malfoy sat forwards on his chair, removing the dishes from her hands. "Feeling a bit more energized Granger?"

She nodded stiffly, not sure what he was playing at.

He rolled his silver eyes skyward. "Don't be so cold Granger, lighten up a bit. At the very least, you're alive, right? Isn't that why you've sold yourself to me?"

Her eyes widened in horror. "Excuse me? I never did anything like that Ferret!"

The blond chuckled. "Perhaps not, but Granger, the deal binds you to me no matter what we agree on. I've saved your life, and you are now my _property _to care for and to watch."

She jumped up immediately, and he vaguely wondered if he would have another mess to pick up off the floor. Luckily, she remained standing. "How dare you! You said I wouldn't be your stupid property!" She was shaking now. "I should've never trusted you-"

"Will you calm the fuck down Granger," he asked, rubbing his temples. "There are parts of this spell that can't be ignored. When my ancestors created this cure, this was the binding deal they wanted in return. Even if I were to ignore that and treat you like a fucking friend, you would still be in actuality my _slave_, until I think it's time to release you."

Her brown eyes were full of anger. "How dare you! Why would you ever want me as a slave Malfoy?" He was about to respond, when her face crumbled. "No, if you think I'm like you're stupid Slytherin friends who just put everything out-"

She was cut off by his laughter. The girl glared, crossing his arms as he spoke. "_Hardly _Granger. First off I'm sure you would go running off to Pothead and Weasel the moment I mentioned anything, and furthermore it's not like I would ever want to taint myself with your filthy skin. You're perfectly safe as far as that goes."

Hermione supposed she should relax, but her brain was on edge now with the slave nonsense. _He can't be serious about doing this. _"Well release me then Malfoy. Make this deal as fair as it was supposed to be." She had her hands on her hips, waiting.

"Well you expect an awful lot don't you, slave," he bit out, enjoying the heated look in her eyes. "Unfortunately for you I have no desire to release you for quite some time. We have things to accomplish first."

In a very childlike manner, she stomped her foot. "That is not fair Malfoy! This wasn't part of our deal!"

He chuckled darkly, standing and getting in her face. She tried to back away but his hands locked on her upper arms like before, holding her still. "Which is exactly why I didn't tell you about this! I knew you wouldn't agree. So I left out that minor detail."

"Minor detail," she hissed, trying to pull away. "It might be a _minor detail _to you Malfoy, but this is my life! You can't just go around and mess with people like this!"

"And that's what you've only just learned. Besides Granger, I have nothing too awful planned for you."

She struggled in his grasp and he finally let go, pushing her back onto the bed before she hurt herself, and resuming his original seat. "What does that mean," she snapped, sitting up and scooting her legs onto the bed, away from him.

He shrugged. "If you calm down enough I may actually tell you."

The brunette huffed, and pushed her hair away from her face. "Fine Malfoy, enlighten me. Tell me all the horrors you're going to make me partake in."

A blond eyebrow shot up, and he leaned forwards on the chair, elbows resting on his knees. "And why do they have to be horrors Granger? I rather think my reasons are quite agreeable."

Hermione crinkled up her nose. "Your idea of agreeable and mine are very different."

The boy chuckled one last time before he began to talk. "There are several things you will be doing Granger, but none of them will tarnish your reputation or your precious virginity." She shot an eyebrow up as well when he said that. "The first thing you are absolutely bound to though, is you will tell no one, in absolutely no way, that I gave you the cure. People can come to whatever conclusions they want but you will deny, and deny _well_, that I ever had anything to do with you getting better. Purebloods will probably figure it out, but no one will come forwards with it. As soon as my secret is out it won't take long for the magical community to pursue every other Pureblood family. So you _will _stay silent on the topic."

The girl was glaring at him. "Why do I have to keep your secret? It's not my fault that you're so bloody stubborn that you had to get me to take up this horrible deal. You probably do have something awful planned at the end of this."

He scowled. "I can arrange something if you continue to bitch at me."

She clenched her jaw at that, eyes dark. "Whatever. What is your next, stupid term?"

He smirked. "That's it? No angry comeback from the feisty Gryffindor? I'm almost disappointed."

The girl frowned. "What do you want? Pleas for you to choose something else? I'm not stupid Malfoy, you just finished saying I can't argue! So hurry up and stop dragging this out." She fell back against her pillows, defeated.

"If you insist, Granger. You'll also be joining me come the Christmas holiday at my Manor."

"What!" She jumped up. "Are you insane? There is no way I'm ever going back to that place Malfoy. Try something else."

"You don't have a choice. As soon as the holidays roll around, we're going to Malfoy Manor. Tell your parents and you're bleeding friends whatever you like, but it's happening. You'll find that when the day to leave comes, that refusal is useless. Your mind may say no Granger but your body has to say yes. It has to go because it's bound to me." He smirked at her, the girl's eyes overly large. "Once there, we have two final things to deal with, then I don't care what you bloody do."

She tentivly raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly are those things?"

Draco bit his lip. The first reason was only to retaliate against his mother, but the second reason was something he needed done. "You're going to be my bloody excuse to not attend my mother's Christmas Ball. And no, before you even ask, I'm not taking you as a date under any circumstances. Do you know how much effort it would take on my part to defend a Mudblood in a room full of people like me? No, I'm not even attempting it. You'll spend all of Christmas break with me, and you won't contact your friends-"

"Absolutely not-"

"And on the eve of the Ball you will stay with me throughout the night so we can avoid guests-"

"I'm not doing that-"

"And the rest of break except that night you will help me try to cure my father."

"I-excuse me?" Her refusal was cut short by Draco's final demand, causing her a good amount of confusion. "Why would your father want my help? Why would _you_ want my help?"

He rolled his eyes. "Does it matter Granger? My father's been sick lately and since every fucking Healer who comes by is too dim to help, I figured I could try the smartest bitch of our age."

"Witch," she replied, not at all enjoying the slur he used to take its place.

"Whatever," he said, with a dismissive shrug of his shoulders. "Those are my conditions, and you will see each and every one of them through. When they are complete, you can do whatever you bloody wish with your time. But remember, you can never tell a soul about our deal, and my cure." The blond smirked, and watched her body deflate in defeat. However, her eyes were still burning.

"You saved me so I could save your father," she snapped bitterly, leaning into the pillows. "I knew this wasn't because you have a heart someplace in there! I can't believe I ever got talked into this." The girl shook her head, angry at the new predicament.

He shrugged, standing. "Go ahead and mope Mudblood, I don't care. But I would get myself prepared for a visit. Welsh did say he was coming back today."

She paled a bit, just like every other time her Healer was mentioned. "And you'll be in here to make sure I don't spill your secret?"

Draco laughed. "Hardly. I don't need to be. I _control _you for the time being, so you won't even be able to tell the man. I'm sure that obnoxious brain of yours can come up with an excuse." He stood from the chair, finished speaking to her.

"So you won't be in here with me," she asked quietly.

He paused at the door. "Is that a problem for you?" he asked, not turning around.

The sound of her swallowing was frightfully loud. "No."

"Good," he replied, walking out.

* * *

><p>Draco was busy adding the next part to the potion sometime later when several rushed knocks on the front door caught his attention. He rolled his eyes, dropping the last bit of hellebore in as he walked towards the dorm's entrance. Throwing the portrait open, he found Welsh standing very close to the door, obviously anxious to get inside.<p>

"Mr. Malfoy," Welsh said, sliding in. Draco put up no resistance as the man walked roughly past him, into the room. He grunted, turning to the elder man, who was now glancing towards Hermione's open bedroom with far too much eagerness.

"Well," the blond student snapped, "are you going to stand in my living room wasting my time all day? Go see her and go the fuck away." He walked to the couch and flopped down on it, annoyed. He was in no mood to try and act hospitable to the unwanted guest and besides, the bloody potion could wait a minute.

Welsh turned to look at the boy now sprawled out shamelessly on the couch. "You seem to be in a bitter mood today Malfoy." Draco duly noted that there was no proper 'Mr.' before that statement like there had been before.

"I'm in no mood for guests," he snapped, not even looking at the Healer. He had sat up, but was instead glancing at Granger's room. _She's at least up, right?_

He could hear the bloke huff, before he walked to Hermione's bedroom. As he reached it, Draco noticed the idiot attempting to close her door. "Keep it open, will you? It's bloody hot in there."

"Malfoy-"

The boy fixed his glare on him, annoyed. "Just leave the door open. It's strange enough that you always shut yourself in with her."

The man glared at the blond, before reluctantly letting go of the door and storming into Hermione's room. Draco heard the bloke gasp, obviously confused about whatever Granger was doing just then. _Probably sitting up. Normal activates were so very difficult for her._

"Get out," he heard her suddenly scream. "What are you doing? Close your eyes?"

_Oh, that sounds lovely. I wonder what she was doing. _He stood and wandered lazily towards the bedroom, ready to drag Welsh right out. _She is technically my property; I suppose I should take care of her, at least somewhat. _

Draco finally reached the door and peered in, his eyebrows scrunching together. Welsh was leaning against the wall near her bed, running his fingers lightly up and down her bare shoulder. She had a sheet in front of her body, which seemed a bit odd since he could see the straps of her tank top.

_I bet she would move if she had a bit more strength…come to think of it, she should be able to move. _"What are you doing," he drawled, standing in the doorway.

The Healer who turned his head up to look at Draco Malfoy had a dark expression on his face. "How did she get better," he snapped, eyes glaring at the blond.

_Well, couldn't you just ask her that? _"Miracle? How should I bloody know," the blond replied, eyes narrowing. Before Welsh spoke again he inclined his head towards Hermione. "You seem to be making her rather uncomfortable."

The man's large hand dropped from her shoulder, fingers trailing down to her elbow before he finally removed it completely. His gaze was still on Malfoy. "That's a rather large miracle, considering the condition she was in just a few days ago."

"Well I've gotten better now," Hermione spoke up, eyes focused on her roommate instead of the man she was addressing. The brown pools were pleading with him, pleading for him to come closer to the bed and further in between her and the man beside her.

"And how did that happen," he bit out, aggravated. Draco noticed one of the veins in his head popping out a bit in irritation. The sight nearly made him cringe. _Merlin, Rodolphus used to do the same thing when he was angry. _

Draco had not been very fond of his uncle. The man was vile, but not nearly as insane as his wife, Bellatrix. If he had to choose the scariest of the pair, it was definitely his possessed aunt. But Rodolphus had been out of his life for years, and he didn't need to be thinking of him just then. After all, he had a rather angry Healer glaring down at Granger.

"I-I don't know," Hermione said, ducking her head. The blond scowled. _That's the best the Mudblood can come up with? Really? Fuck, I'm not taking that! I hope she comes up with a far better excuse then that!_

She was actually shrinking away from the man slowly. His silver eyes narrowed as he watched the Healer's reaction. The man was practically trying to grip her shoulder by then, to _make _her sit still. _That's not professional. _

Strangely, Welsh's aggressive attitude reminded him of Theodore Nott.

"What do you mean you don't know," he spat, looking between the two teens. Draco had moved forwards and was now at the end of her bed, watching the man with a hooded expression. Welsh didn't know what the look on the young man's face meant, however.

"She doesn't know," he replied coolly, daring to sit down on her covers. He crinkled his nose a bit, unable to push the thought of _Mudblood germs _away from his mind as he sat there. From the corner of his eye he noticed her scooting closer, and he almost let out a sigh. _Must she be so…desperate? Clingy? What am I supposed to call her actions right now? _

The man's eyes danced between the pair, and his frown deepened as she scooted closer to someone she absolutely hated, sheet still clutched to her. "Well I'm sorry to disappoint you, _Mr. _Malfoy, but she didn't get well all on her own!" He looked at the girl, wondering if he should be talking to his patient about this or if he should just grab the young idiot beside her and talk to him privately in the living room instead. He decided right then that he didn't care. "Miss Granger was practically dying, a few days ago, I am sorry to say. Do you expect me to believe this girl got better on bed rest?"

His eyes scanned down the parts of her that he could see, which consisted of nothing more then her shoulder's and face. In most cases this would not be enough to go off of, but he could already see the differences. She had been basically bound to the bed last time, hardly able to move without pain. Now she was squirming all over the bed? And even worse, she was squirming over to the blond brat! And she had even screamed, when before she had been practically unable to make a full, recognizable sentence. No, this was simply impossible.

He waited for a response. The boy was glaring at her, apparently waiting for her to tell him. He sat back in the chair behind him and waited, wishing she would stop her death grip on the sheets.

"I…I tried something new," she said quietly, stupidly. She could see the glares Malfoy was sending her, obviously angry that she wasn't doing a very good job with this. But she couldn't help it! Welsh's presence put her on edge.

The Healer threw his hands up. "I understand that Miss Granger, but you have somehow recovered from a deadly disease. If I could understand how you did that, it would be a miracle and a major breakthrough in the world of medicine. You had to get better somehow, so will you please tell me how?" His voice was quieter, almost cooing as he spoke. Malfoy wanted to gag.

_This man is positively perverse. And Granger is probably the worst liar I have ever met. I might need to make her do something else at this rate. _

The girl bit her lip and shook her head. Draco could practically hear the restrained scream on her lips when he leaned forwards and rested a hand on her thigh. He scrunched up his nose, noticing it was way to high up to be considered appropriate. The blond casually moved his legs to rest on the bed, one leg crossing over to casually push Welsh's hand away as he did so. The man shot him a look.

_Maybe I was right; he is perverse._

And so their conversation continued on for the next few minutes, with Draco finally excusing himself to go and check on the potion. He didn't want to leave it too long, and although he had barely stirred it before it shouldn't affect the outcome of the potion in the least bit. He just needed to get away from Welsh's ever changing attitude towards things. One minute he was angry, the next he was acting like some perverted bastard, then he would become sweet, followed by aggravated, and then the cycle would repeat.

Malfoy was walking back towards the bedroom when Granger stumbled out and clutched his arm. His eyes widened a bit at the rather red handprint on her face. Instinctly, and of course because she was his bloody property, he shoved her roughly behind him onto the couch, drawing his wand.

_Something is definitely wrong with this man. _He wandered into her bedroom, ready to hex this bizarre doctor of hers. What kind of professional laid a hand on his patient like that? And when she had the ability to run one room over and get help? _Defiantly not the smartest._

He was stunned to find Welsh jumping out a window. The man's billowing Healer robes were disappearing out the room, into the bright sunlight of the day. Draco bolted over and watched the plummeting figure of Hermione's Healer, who was drawing closer and closer to the next floor's roof.

Out of nowhere, he disappeared.

The blond's eyes widened, just as they had moments ago when she came out with the bright slap mark on her face. _You can't apparate within the Hogwarts grounds. _

He pushed away from the window, stumbling back into her room and collapsing on the bed. _What the fuck is going on here? Since when is Welsh, well, blatantly violent? _

He also thought it was rather pathetic that the man waited until he had left the room to attempt anything. _Coward. _

It was several minutes before the sound of footsteps in the room reminded Draco that Granger was still there someplace, apparently freaking out. He sat up, blond hair falling into his eyes as she reentered her bedroom, rubbing the skin of her cheek. _At least it's not as red anymore I suppose. _

Draco didn't stand up as she sat beside him on the bed, staring at her canopy instead of him. He on the other hand was watching the still visible handprint on her cheek with some sort of emotion building inside of him that he didn't understand.

"What the fuck was that Granger," he eventually asked, his teeth clenched. That taunting mark was really a bother.

She shrugged, cringing at the action. For a moment, he thought that the potion wasn't working to its full potential, but then he noticed the obvious fingerprints there. Once again, that strange emotion grew inside of him.

"That's not an answer." He moved so he was leaning over her, and her eyes got large. "Tell me what the fuck that was about!"

Hermione scooted away from him. "He wanted to know how I managed to get better," she said offhandedly, playing with her curls.

Draco was in her face, gripping her wrist in a stern, but painless grip. "He was asking a _question_? Fuck Granger, a _question _caused him to hit you," he spit, nodding towards her cheek and shoulder.

The girl shrugged and removed her wrist from his grip, scooting away. "I didn't know what to tell him Malfoy," she spat back. "What do I tell him? I have no idea what lie I'm supposed to be making up for you!"

"It's not for me," he barked, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him. Neither of them even noticed he was doing this without a scowl. "How the hell could you sit there and let that man hit you? Fuck!" Thin, pale fingers were tearing at his blond hair. "Tell me that's not what he used to do when I left the room," he groaned, falling back onto her pillows, still pulling his hair.

She shrugged and fiddled with her fingers.

"You have to be fucking kidding me," he snapped, feeling a rather heavy weight come crashing down on his chest. _You pay an awful lot of attention to her don't you, you git! You obviously had better things to do then notice if that man was abusing her, under your fucking nose!_

The pair was quiet for a long time, and sat in silence. At some point, Draco realized he was sprawled out on a Mudblood's bed, and he quickly pushed himself up. She didn't even look up, just kept her face angled towards the canopy top.

"I'm going to alert the old bat," he snapped, drawing her attention. She was up in an instant, jumping across the bed to grasp his wrist.

"Don't," she whispered, eyes wide. "It's personal."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Yes actually, it's quite personal, and it's going to look far worse on my part then yours. What's wrong with you anyways Granger, letting someone hit you like that? Don't seem very Gryffindor like."

She could tell he was angry; it was rather obvious by his tone of voice and his rather stiff body at the moment. But this wasn't his fault, not really. She kept quiet, like she had since summer, like she had since she ran into _him; _since he started ruining her life and changing everything.

"I haven't been myself for a while Malfoy," she replied, meeting his eyes. "But this isn't your secret to tell. Welsh was...mean, but, it's my problem. Besides, it's not like you're going to let him back in here. Leave it alone, please."

"Merlin Granger," he growled, pushing her away from him. "Just because I have _control _over you for a while doesn't mean you have to bloody start begging me for things. Fuck, I think you took a hit to the head too many times or something, because you're certainly not yourself right now." He turned to go without a glance back at her. "Now will you rest? You've probably used your body way too much today as it is."

But she wasn't done with him. He groaned as hurried footsteps followed him into the common room, and her small hands locked firmly onto his shoulder. The tall boy looked back at her, aggravated. "How are you so persistent over this?"

Hermione's eyes were bright. "Don't tell anyone Malfoy, please. I don't care if you think I'm begging, it's not your place to decide. Just keep Welsh out of here and it won't even matter."

He ripped his arm away. "If you haven't already noticed Granger, it _does _matter. You should've told me from the beginning. At least then I might've been in less of a foul mood about the whole thing. Whatever sick ideas your precious Healer had, they should've stopped before they began."

A vision of his hand on her upper thigh flashed behind his eyelids, but he shook the image away. Granger was fairly smart; she wouldn't let it get to that point.

_Then again, I have been living right next to her for a few weeks now and I've only just discovered this. And Welsh has been alone with her plenty of times. It's entirely possible, but I think I would've at least noticed that bloody difference with her. _He shook his head, a headache beginning to form now.

She pursed her lips. "It wasn't your problem Malfoy, and it still isn't."

He chuckled darkly. "Of course it is Granger, now that was have this deal between us-"

"Right," she interrupted, spinning away from the conniving blond, "I almost forgot, I'm you're _property_ now." She walked back to her bedroom, slamming her door with as much force as she could muster.

Draco fell back against the couch, glaring at the ceiling. _She just has to be stubborn doesn't she?_

* * *

><p>They didn't speak the rest of the night. Draco had too many unresolved, unusual emotions spinning through his body for him to speak again to the Gryffindor, and Hermione was mortified that she had run to <em>Malfoy <em>of all people with that issue.

The blond was in his bed, thinking things over the following morning after a restless sleep. _That situation unraveled rather quickly. Welsh was rather careless about the entire thing. _He had been up until nearly two that morning thinking about the same sort of things and he was now annoyed with the entire topic.

At a quarter past nine, he dragged himself out of bed to find some breakfast. His walk was disrupted by the aggravated owl outside the living room window, apparently having been there a while. A second, calmer one sat behind it that he instantly recognized as his mother's. He opened the window and let both brown owls in, realizing that the second was the dull one that had brought the last note meant for Granger.

_This should be interesting. I bet they are from Welsh, after everything yesterday. He is the only one who knows enough about us, outside of Blaise._

He took both letters and sent the unknown bird off, barely spending the time to give the animals a treat. He retreated to his bedroom quickly, food forgotten at the idea of figuring something out. This mother's bird perched itself on his desk, eagerly awaiting something to take back. There were still things concerning this little Granger issue that he didn't understand.

_Maybe Welsh is the one that wanted to kill her. It would make sense. _

The blond decided to discard Granger's letter, and make sure he replied to his mother before his mood turned sour. The last letter hadn't been terrible but his mood was awful after dealing with the disturbed problems yesterday.

_Draco~_

_What is wrong with Pansy? She is a lovely girl Draco, really. I think you two would be wonderful together. Really, give the girl a try. After everything, she deserves someone to take care of her._

_Tell me that you did not go through with that spell Draco! It will bind the girl to you as a slave. You might be able to let her go, but that bond is strong. My ancestors used to be corrupted with this cure. Do you realize the side affects that would come with it? You would be responsible for the well being of her, because she would in terms be a 'slave'. Anything that happens to her would be your fault. You don't want that responsibility my son, trust me. _

_Because I know your curiosity will spike because of this, I will provide some more information. The bind you would find yourself in is difficult to break. The longer the bind is in place the more difficult it is to release the 'slave'. That's why I don't want you tampering with this Draco. Depending on the bond already in place between the two parties, the faster the magic takes affect. You don't want someone bound to you forever. Neither of you deserve that._

_Please don't mess with it. Let the girl die, it will be better for both of you, trust me._

_Now on to the real reason I am owling you. Your father's condition is continuing to worsen. The Healer has put up spells to keep him locked away in his own wing of the Manor. I need you out of school at the earliest convenience, even if it is before the holidays. I'm worried for him, but I dare not go up there and speak to him myself. And I refuse to take anyone like Mrs. Greengrass up there either, before you ask. This is a family matter only, and I won't be dragging others in._

_Now, if you won't go with Parkinson, who exactly do you plan to bring to my ball? I suppose you can come by yourself, but if you do, be warned that you will participate in far more dances. Do you have someone specific in mind instead? Oh do let me know!_

_Also, Mrs. Zabini has decided to come spend the holidays with us as well. With everything involving that horrible deal her estranged husband made last year, she needs a break. So do bring Blaise home with you, and remind him to find a date for the Ball. Perhaps one of the Greengrass girls would like to be his date? I'm sure that would make Mrs. Greengrass quite happy._

_I'll see you in December Draco. Keep studying, and don't start blowing off your studies again._

_~Mother_

He rolled his eyes at the note. Could she bring up that damn party anymore then she did? He sighed. At least Blaise would be around to ease the tension, and of course there would be Granger to hide someplace from all those Purebloods.

_Sounds like a lot of work over the holidays. _It would be worth it though. He was sure Granger could do something about his father's condition. Anything would be better then the way things were right now.

He picked up a quill and scrawled a quick note, annoyed at his mother's persistence. He would certainly not be attending with her around. That was the entire reason Hermione was coming, and he'd be damned if his mother convinced him otherwise.

_Mother~_

_I'll make sure to bring Blaise, no worries. And I am certain he can find someone to deal with him between now and then. I don't think I can come earlier then the start of Christmas Vacation, but I can try if I am needed that badly._

_Don't worry about that cure, it's been taken care of. See you for the holiday._

_~Draco_

It was one of his shorter letters, but he didn't want to indulge too much into the part with the spell. His mother could find everything out in a few months. Draco handed the brown, long beaked bird the letter before shoving a window open and sending it off as well. With both birds gone, he turned his attention to the last letter.

_Hermione Granger. _The script was neat, the same as the last time. He broke the seal and took out a single sheet of parchment, with hardly anything on it.

The really startling thing was the name at the top of the letter, different from the envelope.

_Dear Draco Malfoy~_

_Did you enjoy my last letter? I know she never got the last one intended for her, because she could not tell me what was on it. Why are you saving Granger? I had some plans for her, and you have caused a rather large problem. Leave the girl be, just like you did before. She's mine._

_~The Mudblood's Dear Friend_

He wrinkled his nose. The person sending this knew he had read the last one? How could he know? No one ever came into his room.

Malfoy threw the letter to the side, his hands finding his face. _Why does everything have to be so complicated?_

* * *

><p><em><strong>an: **A little rushed maybe, but there is a reason why Welsh is being so blatantly obvious with his actions, and not even trying to hide them from Draco. Why do you think that is? And do you like Draco's requirements? There's one more coming up later on...now lovelies, want to leave a review telling me your thoughts?_  
><em>_


	12. Time Cannot Erase

**A/n:  
><strong>Keep the reviews coming my lovelies! There isn't quite any Dramione yet, I know I know. We're building however! And remember, this is a mystery. I will be dropping several more hints to see if any of you can figure anything out as well before I reveal the Welsh and Theo situation :) don't hate me! As for the slap last chapter, that is reflected upon a little bit here. Enjoy!

Also, not yet edited by my beta. This note will be removed when it has been :)

I also find it funny, how contradicting the reviews are. Half of you love the deal, half of you hate it. I've never had such a torn response, and I'm interested to see how that is looked at later hwen you see more on it.

* * *

><p><strong>Bambi<strong>:Reasonable? I'm glad to hear! and I think this is my fastest update.

**Eric: **Welsh? Hmm...we'll see.

**Jelisha Baby 22**: I'm sorry! I really didn't mean to skip you. I try to answer everyone. As for Welsh and Theo, you will have to see...and yes, that is a hint my dear...

**They Call Me Ginger: **Mystery is good, considering that's what it's under :)

**Daddy: **We'll see...

**justine: **Well let me know at the end of this one maybe?

**Fred: **Well, this is a Draco/Hermione story, so killing Draco really won't be productive. Besides, I hate when Draco is portrayed as a coward. If he has the muscles from Quidditch then he isn't weak, and he can pack just as much of a punch as Harry or Ron. Besides, Harry is too good a person to gang up on Malfoy, and since Hermione is in no position to tell them, she's fucked. If you want to critique something try reading the summery so what you're writing makes more sense then a half-brained twit. If you don't like the pairing that's not really my fault, but comment elsewhere. It's not worth reading something if you don't even like it.

* * *

><p><strong>Time Cannot Erase<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Dear Draco Malfoy~<em>

_Did you enjoy my last letter? I know she never got the last one intended for her, because she could not tell me what was on it. Why are you saving Granger? I had some plans for her, and you have caused a rather large problem. Leave the girl be, just like you did before. She's mine._

_~The Mudblood's Dear Friend_

It didn't sit right with him. No one really knew much about his connections with Granger, and absolutely no one knew about the potion besides them and Blaise, and Blaise wouldn't betray him like that. Pansy had probably reached that conclusion by now, but he wasn't going to consider her. Pansy had played this role once, and she wouldn't put someone else in this position. There were few people who could be the sender, and he didn't like any of the ideas.

His head hurt. It was early in the day and he just wanted something simple. Ever since he decided to help Granger a little bit and remove her body from the god damn corridor at the beginning of the month, life had flipped and he hated it. Having leverage over her was great, but all these extra little extensions were too much. He didn't sign up to guard her from disturbed older men and mental students. That wasn't anything he planned to help with, yet here he was, thinking about all the times he had done something to help her when it wasn't necessary of him. He could just of easily have turned away from Nott bothering her and the slap Welsh gave her, but he didn't. And now he believed he was stuck.

He was in too deep. Leaving her to fend for herself would just make him more of a bastard. He couldn't turn away and leave now, because whoever was bothering her knew about him, and that threw him into this overall problem. _Fuck. _

And Draco wasn't pleased with that. He was just fine distancing himself from her before. Now he felt like the bloody universe was trying to tell him to protect her.

Like that would happen.

He distantly heard knocking on the portrait door, and the scrambling sound of Hermione trying to get out of bed. Merlin, she wanted to jump back way too fast for her own good. He heard something fall to the ground in her bedroom, and clenched his jaw as he stood, making his way out of his bedroom in time to catch her in the doorway of her own.

"Go back to bed," he said gruffly, turning towards the sound of the noise.

"And what if it's for me," she demanded, resisting the urge to stomp her foot. She wasn't dying anymore, and she was certainly not alright with Draco Malfoy trying to tell her what to do. There had been enough of that and it wouldn't be happening again. Screw everything that went on yesterday, she could do things by herself!

_Git. _She crossed her arms and watched him open the portrait to peer out, curious as to whom it would be. She felt a smile snap her face in half upon seeing Ron's messy red hair appear just outside their dorm, Harry's voice traveling in as he demanded to see her.

Ecstatic, she shuffled over to the entrance, her energy still reduced as her body and the potion clashed together trying to help her get better. The blond obviously sensed her presence and moved aside with a groan as she jumped on the very surprised figure of Ron, who's strong arms came around to grasp her tightly.

"Hermione," he cried, overjoyed at actually seeing her out of bed. She felt frail and a bit malnourished in his arms, which he would have to yell at Draco for later, but at least she was moving around. He recalled the last time he saw her out of bed, sprawled on the floor and allowing _Malfoy _of all people to carry her to bed. It had been a slap in the face to all of them, to say the least. But at least now she seemed to be back, and knowing who to run from.

"Hey Ron," she said, hugging tightly. Over his shoulder she could see Harry's furrowed eyebrows, and she knew he was focusing on only her frail body. At least she currently had Ron to hide how skinny she was, right?

A few seconds later he released her from the hug, and she was grateful. Malfoy was casting a look at her that she couldn't quite read, but it was something between worry and annoyance. The worry part she could almost understand-and that was scary. That hug had hurt her bones, and she felt like Ron's strong grip was literally going to break her. The unnaturally fast cancer had weakened her a great deal and strong contact like that could still apparently hurt her.

_I guess I'll have to be more careful until this potion nonsense is done. _

"How are you," he asked, suddenly looking worried. Harry had walked to his side, and had placed a gentle but strong grip on her shoulder. Hermione wondered if she had been swaying.

"Feeling better," she said truthfully, noticing Draco had at some point left the room entirely while she was receiving a hug from the tall Weasley. Harry stepped up then and hugged her as well, his grip far looser, and she was grateful for it.

The hug was far shorter as well, and soon the trio sat on the living room furniture, Hermione clasping a pillow in front of her to hopefully hide the skinniness of her body. But of course, after a few minutes of pleasantries, the conversation had to rotate towards what had been wrong.

"So what did you have anyways," Ron asked, leaning forwards. "It looked bloody awful. I still can't believe you got locked up in here forever with the Ferret of all people."

_Neither can I. _She didn't bite her lip, because it would make it obvious to them that she was hesitating to answer them, but the idea was there to do the action anyways. She wanted to let her friends in, tell them what Draco had done for her, and to _not _kill him since he had insisted so long ago that only he could make the potion, for whatever reason.

But, she knew she couldn't. Telling them would mean telling them about her sickness, and when she got it, and why she wouldn't tell them before. Why she didn't ever let them help her. But, if she did that, not only would they be upset about her secret, but they would also ask too many questions, and then she would eventually have to focus on that first, horrifying day, the day she assumed might have caused this disease.

No, she couldn't do it, not yet. They were her best friends, she loved them more then the entire world, but she couldn't tell them and bare her soul. There were too many new wounds that she didn't want her friends touching, not yet. And Harry and Ron, unfortunately, had the uncanny ability to ask every question possible. They might be her best friends, but she couldn't start backtracking now.

_Let me get over this disease, just over this sickness, and then I'll tell them, and they can tell me how betrayed and angry they feel. They can tell me how I should've come to them, not Malfoy, and how I've signed my soul to the devil. They can yell and they can scream and they can be angry, but I can't let them know yet. I just can't. What if he found out-_

She cut off her train of thought. No, she wouldn't thin about him, not now. That would make her cry, and she couldn't very well react like that right then. Besides, her friends were waiting for an answer.

"I'm not quite sure yet," she lied, looking down. She could feel their intense stares on the top of her head, and she could practically feel the edge in the heavy air; they _knew _she was lying, that was unavoidable.

"Hermione-" Ron began.

"We hope you find out soon then," Harry interjected, watching her closely. She glanced up into his bright green eyes. They looked sad, and her stomach dropped. Why was he playing along if he seemingly knew her lie? Ron was apparently going to try to question her, but Harry was skimming over everything.

She wondered why he acted so calm about it, while Ron looked a bit miffed.

"So do I," she replied, her hands clutching at the throw pillow a bit tighter.

"And I hope you'll tell us when you find out," he continued, eyes never leaving hers. She felt pressure under that stare, like he was hoping whatever little secret she had would pop out if his glare was intense enough.

No such luck.

The three chatted for another hour about everything, from Hermione's strange and sudden health to Neville causing a potion to blow up on both himself and Professor Snape, who, according to the both of them, had a new teacher helping him this year. Now _that _could be considered a scary position. They told her all about how he had taught nearly half the classes since school began.

Hermione was eager to meet him by the time they were done. He seemed to be a lot nicer then Snape, probably because he was a trainee, who was hoping to take over whenever the man retired. As such, he didn't favor Slytherin over Gryffindor, no matter how much it bothered Snape.

Yet, she couldn't help feeling detached. Harry and Ron chatted about things during class, about things Neville or Ginny or Seamus had done the other day that was funny, the newest prank on Slytherin, or the homework they still had to do. Merlin, she had piles and piles of work to do, that she had completely neglected during her nearly last days, the days when it seemed she would end up dying with no one but Malfoy for company during the last days. How dreadful would that be?

Harry was talking about some rubbish from Divination when the portrait opened and none other then Blaise Zabini walked in. The three grew silent, and he regarded the two males with a much colder glare then he did Hermione. Without a single word passed between the group, he walked past them and into Draco's room, not entirely shutting his door.

Ron looked at Hermione. "I've heard he is up here lots. Seamus says he sees Zabini come up often, more so then that Nott fellow." Hermione cringed but it seemed to go unnoticed by the two boys. "I always thought Malfoy's friends were limited to bodyguards," he continued, glancing at her. "Do they always talk in his bedroom?"

She shrugged. "Typically out here, since I've been sick."

"Yes, you seem to have gotten quite a bit better then the last time we saw you," Harry said, glancing at Ron. She watched her two best friends lean forward, and knew she wouldn't enjoy this conversation. "How did you get so much better so quickly anyways, Hermione? We were up here not that long ago and you certainly weren't this well. How did you possibly manage it?"

She ran a hand through her hair, noticing how knotted and greasy it felt. She inwardly slapped herself, having not thought to use her wand to freshen up. _I must look a bloody mess. _"St. Mungo's sent me a few test potions," she lied, again, feeling her heart clench. She was going to hell, if such places even existed, for lying so much to two people she loved dearly. "They said that whatever I had was rare, and if I would like to try out a few experimental potions it was better then nothing. One of them worked a bit, with the help of a few others. That's why Malfoy has been up here so much-he had to monitor and make sure nothing happened. Of course-I wish one of you had been up here instead," she finished lamely, catching the angry glint in both boys' eyes. They obviously did not like to be overstepped by the blond, no matter the circumstances.

Hermione wasn't sure the lie was exactly believable, but she didn't care. Her head had started to hurt quite badly and the visions of the two boys had begun to sway. She was not concerned just then with keeping their curiosity down, just satisfying it for the time being so she could go lie down. Had she been thinking a bit clearer, she might've thought that notion to be strange for her.

"You let someone use your body for tests," Ron asked, horrified. "That doesn't sound like you Hermione. What the hell is wrong?" She registered he was by her side, grasping her hand, looking worriedly up at her, but she didn't want to focus on him. She was feeling light headed and short of breath.

She didn't reply, but blinked several times. Harry was grasping her chin then, forcing her to focus on him. "Are you alright," he asked, placing his hand on her forehead to check for a fever.

"Yes," she said, her airways seeming to become smaller. "Just tired. The medicine does that. Would you take me to m-my bedroom to lie down?"

The two boys exchanged glances. Something was definitely wrong, and they wanted to know what, but if she was going to pass out on the chair it wouldn't do them any good to push it. Harry stepped aside to allow Ron to move her, and opened the bedroom door so his friend could set her on the bed. After tucking the covers in around her, Ron looked back at his friend, the girl already dosing.

Harry checked her pulse to make sure she was alright, unsure exactly what else to do. Satisfied that it was strong and that her breathing seemed surprisingly better, he crossed his arms and frowned. "Something's definitely not right here."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, and I'm willing to bet it has to do with that ferret. She's better then before but she still isn't good." Harry could pick out the vague glint of anger in Ron's eyes. "I'm going to have a word with him."

"Ron-"

But it didn't matter what he was going to say, Ron was already walking out the door to push Draco's open. Harry rounded the corner in time to see his ginger friend stomping up to the blond, grabbing him by the collar of his expensive shirt and lifted him towards his face. The startled blond did nothing to protest, and instead stared into the Weasley's angry eyes.

"What did you do," he snapped.

"About," Draco replied, noticing that both Potter and Blaise had their wands out, just in case. He kept his exterior calm and collected, trying not to betray the emotions swirling around in his head from his talk with Zabini that had been so rudely interrupted.

Besides, if the red-haired idiot even tried to beat him up, he would just flip the tables and ruin him. Poor man would never be able to reproduce…although that wasn't actually a bad thing.

"Hermione," he snapped.

"Weasel, you've confronted me about this topic enough times. Find someone else to blame for your friend's unfortunate problems."

His grip tightened and Draco's hand flexed, ready whenever the Gryffindor made his move. "I think you caused them-"

"Hardly. I can't very well give someone cancer."

He felt the boy's grip slacken. "She doesn't have cancer!"

The blond raised an eyebrow, interested now. "She didn't tell you? I thought she would tell you two at the very least. Although, it's not really my place-"

"Tell us what you know," Ron cried a panicked look in his eye.

Draco shrugged and finally broke the grip Weasley had on his shirt, smoothing down the slightly wrinkled fabric. "She had cancer alright? It's not like I pay a lot of bloody attention to what Mudblood's have. She had some sort of disease; St. Mungo's fixed it, and now you can remove yourselves from my room." He flicked his hand dismissively, and it only seemed to egg the ginger on. _Perfect. _

"Don't call her that," he spat, drawing his wand, the blond following suit, but with a slackened grip. "How would you know anything about all that?"

"I spent to much fucking time around her," he replied, annoyed. "I can't answer your fucking questions if I don't have them myself. Now get out, I don't want you ruining my carpets."

_Typical, _Harry thought, as he grabbed Ron's shoulder, _he has to be a Pureblood prick even now. _"Don't worry; you can't soil something that's already ruined. We'll be back early tomorrow to see Hermione, so she had best be in the same condition, preferably better." He leveled his green eyes with Malfoy's own silver. "Don't hurt her Malfoy."

"Interesting you say that Potter," he replied, crossing his arms. His mind had flown to Theo's strange behavior and Welsh's violent actions. "If that's all you want, we're practically on the same side."

He wrinkled his nose. "I highly doubt that." Harry turned his head and just barely inclined it towards Blaise, ever trying to be kind to those who didn't give him a reason to hate. "Zabini."

"Potter," he replied, seeming very confused. The two Slytherin's watched Granger's friends retreat from the room, and heard the soft opening and closing of the portrait a few moments later.

"I believe Weasley may just try to kill you after all," Blaise said, sitting back down in the desk chair.

Draco rolled his eyes, not moving. "It's just annoying Blaise. Those two idiots think they should hate me when they barely know Granger's story. If someone would tell them the truth, I doubt they would hate me as much."

"Are you looking to becoming buddies with those Gryffindors," he asked, nose wrinkled.

The blonds' head snapped around sharply, glaring. "I doubt I could tolerate that. I'm simply pointing out that Welsh would probably be a lot more willing to talk to Wonder Boy there then me. He probably won't see me, for that matter."

His Italian friend shrugged, and reclined in the chair. "So you will go see him then?"

Draco nodded, sitting on his bed. "Tomorrow, before anything else gets out of hand."

His friend nodded, before inclining his head to the door. "Best go check on her, make sure she's alive."

He scowled. "I can't wait until this nonsense is over and she can start making all of this up to me."

"Yes," Blaise replied, rolling his eyes, "I'm sure she is looking forward to helping save the life of a man who has hated her since she came to this school, and with more venom then you."

Draco waved his hand. "She is bound, it doesn't matter what she wants."

"Yes Malfoy," he sighed, "I'm sure she'll enjoy being your personal slave."

* * *

><p>As he walked across the school grounds the next morning, Draco hoped he hadn't rushed the potion. That would, of course, make this entire process a big waste of time.<p>

After talking with Blaise last night, he had agreed that they would not be keeping Granger's little issue with Welsh a secret - they just weren't going to tell anyone yet. Draco wanted a chance to question Welsh personally before the bloody Ministry got involved, and that wouldn't happen if someone found out. He was fully intent on going to speak to the man, and then speaking to the Headmistress as soon as possible, to throw this whole issue off his shoulders. But damn, curiosity had gotten the better of him and he wanted to look into things himself first.

His friend had been alarmed at the blatancy of Welsh's slap. The man almost seemed to want to be caught, with the door open and Malfoy just in the other room. You couldn't be more obvious, and that got Draco's brain whirling onto the curious path it was now on. His friend had a point; if it was meant to be hidden, I would've been hidden and he wouldn't have seen anything last night.

The pair had also wondered about her reaction. She didn't cry, scream, anything. Thinking back, Draco could almost say she hadn't wanted his help at all. It was like she was _used _to being hit, else had a reason for taking it. And if she was used to it, then there was no telling what else Welsh had gotten away with behind closed doors.

He clenched his jaw. Just that simple thought alone was sickening, and he didn't want to focus on it. Granger was a stronger character than that, right? She wouldn't allow someone to do that to her, and get away with it. There was just no way.

Still, he couldn't stop the thought from crossing his mind as he reached the school's apparition limits. _I'll have to ask her someday. _

The entire situation was a bit eerie; from Welsh to Theo, to the obvious abuse to Granger's behavior and the notes. He wanted to believe this was the Healer sending these horrible messages, but the thought didn't seem right. The way this person spoke sounded familiar, and he had only been acquainted with Welsh for a short time. And obviously, he had not known the man well.

With a wave of his wand, Draco disapparated off the school grounds in the early light. Hopefully St. Mungo's wouldn't be busy so soon, and he would have the opportunity to have a nice long chat with this perverse man.

* * *

><p>Hermione was up early, having heard the telltale sounds of Malfoy preparing for the day and then completely leaving the dorm. It was Friday the 26, so she wondered how he had gotten out with everyone in class. There were no stray students out at this time to blend in with before sneaking away.<p>

She shook her head. It was better that he was out. She wanted to check out his room, and see why her mail had been altered. After all of his threats, she knew she was missing valuable letters, and that they had not been sitting in the living room for her to see. The owl could easily find its way here, so Malfoy had to have intercepted the letters and stashed them someplace, else destroyed them. Either way, she was concerned with how he would react and she wanted to go looking for them.

The girl didn't worry about being careful, and after inspecting the living room to make sure Zabini wasn't sitting around, she opened the door to her Slytherin roommate's private room. His friend was not in here either, and she was glad. How would she have explained this scenario?

Draco obviously didn't worry about people getting in, because there were numerous letters set on his desk, all folded over. She picked up one, and noticed that it was from his mother. Scanning the contents, she noted that the woman hoped he would bring Parkinson along, and found it odd that he wouldn't. Weren't they together at some point?

Discarding it, she picked up a second slip of paper, this one far smaller then the one from his mother. Opening it, her heart stopped cold.

_Dear Draco Malfoy~_

No, no, no! This couldn't be happening. This was _her _problem, and the last thing she needed was him dragging Malfoy of all people into the works! Merlin, after everything he had done, he had to bother Draco? The blond knew him far better, that was for sure, but it would not be an advantage if he ever found out. She was sure he would simply use his mother or something as bait and do the same thing to him that he had done to her.

After all, he did rant often about how the blond had failed during the war. He would be eager for a chance to fuck over Malfoy's world, and now that he knew they were in this together, that Draco had saved her life no less, he would make it harder on her.

She wondered if it had been Welsh last time, or him. The similarities between the two now were so close that she had a hard time telling them apart. She just hoped for the poor man's sake that he let him go now that she was healing.

_It was probably him. Welsh was always a bit too nice, he's always the cruel one._

Hermione backed away from the letter, her eyes having quickly scanned the contents while reading. _She's mine._

That part worried her. He had said the same thing, in the upstairs bathroom of her house, while her tears ran down her face. He had promised to come back, and finish her if the disease didn't. Obviously, he indeed planned to do it himself now.

She leaned back against the wall, and sank to the floor, not ever caring that it was Malfoy's room she was now crying in.

* * *

><p>Blaise had just wandered out of his double potions class with the Gryffindors, taught today by Snape again, Pansy on his arm. They were official, so why hide it? Besides, he would tell Malfoy soon enough, whenever he saw the bloke again. Last night just hadn't been the right time, not with all the disturbing news Draco had.<p>

He had told Pansy in quiet tones while they worked on their potion, and now she looked rather pale. He knew things like this affected her, but she was constantly asking about Granger now, ever since she heard what Malfoy's requirements were. She was worried about the girl healing right, with the strong cure and the requirement to lie continuously. If she didn't have the energy, and had side effects bothering her, she may not lie very well.

The girl kind of felt bad for both parties. She simply couldn't help it. She had been there, done that, but Draco definitely was the dictator here, and she wondered how long it would take him to realize how much it affected someone.

The pair rounded a corner when suddenly Theo Nott grabbed Pansy's elbow and caused her to halt, Blaise along with her. Her boyfriend instinctively removed his tight grip off of her and placed himself between them, uncomfortable with the other boy being so close to her. After the little incidents with Granger he would take no chances.

"Something you ant Nott," he asked, his tone icy.

The other boy seemed amused by the protectiveness displayed and smirked. "I actually needed to talk to you Zabini, so you can stop guarding your girlfriend."

Blaise raised an eyebrow, before turning to Pansy. "I'll be along in a minute," he said, noticing the elder Greengrass' blond locks sweeping past the trio. "Why don't you talk to Daphne," he urged, hoping she would take the hint. Nott was smiling too much and it was a bit unsettling.

She nodded, and followed the blond girl, catching up to her and chatting aimlessly. She didn't like the strange look the duo had shared, and would definitely be getting on Zabini about it later. For now though, he needed to deal with Theo and she was in no mood to tolerate him.

"Now what do you want," Blaise snapped, once his girlfriend had safely rounded a corner and escaped Theo's traveling eyes. The boy turned back to him and leaned against a wall, staring coolly at the irritated boy.

"I'm supposing he hasn't contacted you either then," Theo said, after a rather long pause. "Else you have simply decided to ignore it."

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Would you like to explain what that's supposed to mean?"

He shrugged. "Don't feel too bad, Malfoy didn't get offered a spot either, and he's related. But Goyle did, and he's bloody ecstatic.

The Italian narrowed his eyes. "What exactly didn't we get a spot in?"

Nott shrugged and began to move away. "If you had been offered a spot it would matter, but you weren't so I'm not bloody telling you."

Blaise grabbed the other boy's shoulder, thankful that the hallways were mostly empty. Two first years were wandering by and keeping their gazes off the pair. No doubt Pansy would be demanding to know what took him so long when he arrived. "Then why are you asking me dangerous questions? If you know so much, I should've been the one to come to you, not the other way around." He forced the boy to turn. "So why did you bother?"

He grinned. "Figure it out yourself." With that, his wand snapped out and he zapped Blaise lightly in the chest. Surprised, the boy stepped back and let go, pulling out his own a second later. "If you're interested enough, you will pursue the answers," Theo continued, looking unfazed by the entire situation.

"What are you playing at," Zabini bit out, unsettled. The boy's eyes seemed a bit off color, and he was getting a bad feeling in his stomach.

"I'm just checking around Nott answered, replacing his wand. "Don't get too worried about it."

Blaise didn't pocket his own wand. "I will be, so long as you ask me strange questions in school corridors."

Theo shrugged. "I'd be more concerned with your girlfriend-"

The other boy cut him off, wand shoving into his throat. "And why should I be concerned about Pansy," he snapped, suddenly very anxious about why she was being brought into this.

He shrugged. "You may want to look out for her, since he will probably be inspecting you."

"Who is _he_," he ground out, ready to hex the boy into the next century.

Theo opened his mouth to reply, but Snape's classroom door suddenly opened and the man himself stepped out. "Would you two kindly go to class? You've made enough noise out here as it is."

Nott smirked and turned, heading in the opposite direction that Blaise needed to. Grounding his teeth together, he started towards class, deciding to keep a close eye on Pansy and figure out what was wrong with Nott later.

* * *

><p>Draco was unfortunate enough to run into Annabelle Day as he searched for Welsh. The girl walked by his side for twenty minutes before even offering to help him. He turned his irritated gaze to her, ready to wring the skinny girl's neck if she said one more thing about being single. He couldn't stop the work 'tramp' from slipping through his mind.<p>

"Where is Welsh," he snapped, crossing his arms as they stopped in a hallway. The front desk had been useless, and the wing of the building Malfoy had always seen him in had been empty of the balding doctor. Annabelle didn't seem to care that he was searching for someone when she found him as he stopped at a third location, or that he had asked the moronic girl twice already.

She frowned. "Healer Welsh has been at his home the past several days. He left the hospital rather sick last Tuesday. He hasn't been in since."

He stiffened. The blond had personally sent Welsh a letter on that following Friday, three days after Welsh stopped reporting to work. "He was in my dorm room at Hogwarts on Saturday, and just yesterday," Draco said, eyes narrowed to slits.

She looked startled. "That doesn't make sense; Healer Welsh hasn't been taking any mail since he left. I noticed the letter you sent but another doctor should've come, not Welsh himself. He never even received the letter."

Draco didn't reply, but his eyes widened and he spun on his heel, turning away from the confused girl. If Welsh hadn't ever received the first letter, then he shouldn't have ever been in their dorm, and if that hadn't been Welsh, how had the imposter known so much?

He suddenly felt very exposed, and wanted to return to his room in Hogwarts. Somehow, someone had gotten in and known everything Welsh did, hit his roommate and then jumped out a window. Else, Welsh had somehow figured it out without reporting to work, and that meant he had been watching them himself, right?

Draco's head was spinning as he apparated back to the outskirts of Hogwarts. Something was definitely wrong, and he had a bad feeling it had something to do with the letter he had received.

**A/n**: Some of you may not be happy with this, but it's leading to some big events. Trust me! Now, what do you think?


	13. When You Cried I'd

**A/n:** I'm back! So there's a touch of romance here if you look! Trust me lovelies, we are building there! As for the length, it's long, and skips forwards a bit to keep the story moving. Enjoy!**  
><strong>

Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**!

**They Call Me Ginger: **Mystery man? Maybe...

**Bambi: **He does seem mental! And, I guess you'll have to see here!

**Daddy**: It's possible...but I don't think you get to know quite yet...

**Jelisha Baby 22:** Congratulations then! You're very smart :)

**justine: **McGonagall? Id that really Draco's style?

**Eric: **No, he's really not is he? And Harry and Ron are important characters, even if I don't necessarily like writing about them Gryffindors...you'll have to see! And I love your long reviews; you put so much thought in :)

* * *

><p><strong>When You Cried I'd<strong>

Eight days later Hermione found herself able to stay awake the entire day and walk through her shared dorm without collapsing. She could even eat a full meal – if only one in a day. Still, it was a massive improvement to how she had been before.

She was a bit upset that she had missed the Halloween feast. She loved the holidays, when the Great Hall would be decorated for the occasion and everything would be a traditional dish for the event. But because she wasn't sure she could handle the people with the way she looked, and the fact that McGonagall had not released her from her bed rest sentence and back to class yet, she spent the feast alone in the dorm. Even Malfoy abandoned her for the occasion.

She had taken the next dose of her cure on the 29th, and now she would take the third dose tomorrow, November 4. After that, there was one final dose and then she would hopefully be strong enough to return to her classes. The girl was so done with the dorm room.

Harry and Ron had come to see her four times in the past week, and both of them had seemed rather pleased with her ever growing health. Ginny, Luna, and Neville had all been by too, and Hermione was so happy to see her friends again that she couldn't begin to explain. Seeing all of those Slytherin's really got tiring. She was less than satisfied, though, with their questions. Malfoy was keeping her bound to silence and anytime she tried to speak, she found herself rambling on about something completely off topic. It was becoming infuriating! Her friends always seemed a bit upset, because they knew it wasn't the truth, but she couldn't do anything about it. And now she was feeling rather lonely with her secret. After all, there was no way she would be discussing this issue with that idiot Slytherin.

The Gryffindor was currently sitting in her bedroom, reading a text book for Potions to try and catch up with the class, now that she was certain Snape would have it in for her. Malfoy was off in his room, doing whatever it is that he did to occupy his time. She was expecting a visit from Ginny a bit later, and couldn't wait. Company had become her only link to the outside world since this began, and it offered a bit of a break during the lonesome days.

Although Malfoy was one door away, they seldom shared a conversation not involving the next step in her cure, and if any other words were exchanged they were not pleasant. In fact the few pleasant words he had said to her were when he found her last week on his bedroom floor.

She didn't want to think about that right now though.

* * *

><p>He had returned to the house now, searching for more of the man's DNA. It was extremely annoying to think that he had just been there a short time ago, and was back again because Draco Malfoy could not stay out of the girl's business.<p>

He knew that once people figured out who he was, they would all wonder why he had been more intent on killing the girl then Malfoy. Malfoy might make more sense, but he didn't care. He was hell bent on the girl, simply because she kept trying to defy him. He had already hurt her once, all in one go, and the results had been phenomenal. Never had he expected things to take the turn they did. Cancer? That was fantastic. He had intended to kill her on his own, but it had seemed that the disease would do that for him.

Until Malfoy got involved. Out of every person out there, how did she end up getting the form of cancer that the Black's had a cure to? He knew that the boy had given her the cure, otherwise she would already be dead.

But of course he just had to interfere. Had he remained out of the picture, or just kept treating her like the Mudblood filth she is, he would have no reason to want to kill his relative. But Draco had decided to get involved, and unknowingly he had signed his own death certificate. He wasn't the initial target just yet, but if he died while trying to end Granger's life, it wouldn't bother him.

It might even speed things up.

The problem was that now that Granger was getting better, she would be more alert. Malfoy was a good wizard alone, and with Granger up and running again they might be able to take him down, if he tried to go and murder one of them

Despite all of that, Malfoy seemed to have developed a protective streak with the girl. When he had gone over recently to _check _on her, he had been defensive. That would not do at all, because that meant that he would be watching 'Welsh' with a closer eye, and after the slap the other day, he would be tense. Whether or not the young man wanted to admit it, he seemed to be developing a soft spot for Harry Potter's friend.

He shook his head. If the girl was not so infuriating, he would not have needed to get violent with the door open. At least she knew how to take a hit quietly, but bolting like that made him angry. When he next saw her, whether as Welsh or not, she would be in a lot more pain.

He pushed open the office door in this small apartment. The body was still where it had been the last time he came around over two weeks ago and ended the poor man's life. He grinned maliciously down at the body, torn apart with its head elsewhere. He had been in a terrible mood the night he came here.

Pulling out a muggle blade, he grabbed the head and cut off handfuls of hair, remembering the night.

_I walked in, quietly as possible. It was surprising how easy it was to break through his wards. Apparently being a doctor set his mind at ease, and he didn't see any reason to cloak his home._

_Which is ironic, since he is involved with me of all people._

_The man wasn't prepared when the door flung open to his office. My hands were on his throat before he could act. "Stop caring for her!"_

"_I'm not t-trying to," he replied, eyes large. "It's her roommate! If I don't seem concerned about her well being he is going to get suspicious."_

_I slammed him into the wall behind him, enjoying the sound it made. My behavior had taken a twisted turn after my run from Azkaban. "It doesn't matter what Malfoy thinks; he will have his thoughts anyways. The girl is slowly breaking Welsh, and if you would keep your part in the deal then she will crash. But you have to stop pitying her!"_

"_I can't help it," he yelled back. "She's terrified-"_

"_As she should be!" I spun around and threw him on the floor, drawing a muggle blade I had obtained. The first slash cut into his shoulder as I grabbed his wand. Stunned, the old man didn't even fight me off. "I told you to hurt her!"_

"_I'm not going to hurt a patient," he replied, arms up in a feeble attempt to block himself from me. I lifted my foot and brought it down on his knee, satisfied with the crunching sound._

_So it continued, with me tearing the old doctor apart until I became infuriated with the body in general and tore his head off. I had never once before gotten my hands dirty with blood like this, and the action made me feel crazed. Stepping back, I grabbed his head and tore out several strands of hair, before using his wand to clean myself up._

Obviously no one was concerned about his whereabouts, since he had been gone two weeks and the body was still exactly the same. It would never do to return again, and now his bloody fingerprints were all over. Scrambling for his wand, he lit the body parts on fire and watched them burn, before pouring water on them. Tucking his wand back in, he reminded himself to walk to a nearby Floo with his hood up instead of apparating. He needed to conserve the magic after all.

In the hallway he caught sight of a tall woman with dark hair. His eyes narrowed and he bit his lip. It looked like her mother, but he knew it wasn't, because he had killed her. Forcing down his anger, he turned before he ripped the pretty woman's head off.

* * *

><p>Minerva was in her office, watching the cloudy sky the following morning. November fourth would surely be a cold one, and she expected some sort of downpour in the next few days, if not today. She was reflecting on many things.<p>

Her Ministry friend had told her to go up and check on Hermione Granger tomorrow, and that was mere days away. She had no idea why she should wait that long, but she would trust the woman for now. After all, if Granger had died, she was sure Malfoy would report it if for no other reason then the idea of a dead person being nearby.

She was waiting for another letter. There had been reports of his activity somewhere in muggle London, and that was terrifying. What good would it do for him to mess with muggles? His target was Miss Granger, and she was still here, safely hidden in Hogwarts. The Headmistress shuddered at the thought of what might happen to her where she to leave at all; the results would probably be devastating.

_Unless perhaps Mr. Malfoy was there. _ She cringed. He could not be her savior. The two were too different, and had too much history between them to stand beside one another in a duel against the man. One of them would probably freak out, but the question was which one. They both had reasons to fear him, and they were very different.

She twirled her quill like a schoolgirl as she continued to think. There had been no reports from Welsh in almost two weeks, which was concerning. She planned to call the hospital later and ask his assistant Annabelle what on earth was going on there.

But really, her mind was on other things, other important things.

Like, whether or not Malfoy could really save her, and whether she could save herself. Whatever he had planned, Draco was now involved. He just didn't know it yet.

Minerva sighed. Things were complicated, and she was certain her smartest student had yet to even begin telling her friend's her problems. They were still too happy, and too relaxed to be in the loop. She was dreading the time when Hermione began revealing her secrets.

_Poor girl. I wonder what else that monster has put her through. All we know about is the bodies, barely. What else could he have done to her? Whatever it is, it wasn't completed, or he would stop trying to find her._

* * *

><p>Blaise sat on the couch staring at Draco. He had been silent since giving Granger her newest dose of the potion that morning, and since had taken to brooding in the armchair. His face was expressionless, but his hands continued to grip the arms. He had been that way for nearly forty minutes, and the Italian had had enough.<p>

"Care to explain your angry state," he drawled, relaxing into the cushions. His friend seemed to finally remember he was there and turned his head in Blaise's direction.

"Have you thought anymore about someone who might have a motive to kill Granger," he asked voice just as void of emotion as his face.

He blinked. "I didn't think it would matter. She's getting better now, since she took your fucking deal. I can't believe you are willing to keep that girl as a slave."

The blond shrugged. "I need her to look at my father, and then she's free to do whatever she bloody pleases."

"Except tell your secret."

"Exactly," he snapped. "Would you like someone screaming out a secret of yours like that? How do you think the medical community would take it if they knew your family has the bloody sure to Leukemia? It would be just as big of a mess as mine, probably more so, because Leukemia is more common then Sarcoma."

Blaise glared. "I wouldn't, but that doesn't mean I'd force her to be my slave either."

"She's hardly a slave. I could make her do far worse things then what I set up, and you know it."

"Maybe, but you don't have to make her do anything at all. Why can't you do this out of the kindness of your heart?"

He gave him a startled look. "Do you know me at all?"

The darker boy held up his hands. "I'm just pointing something out Draco. We have all been down this road before, and we all know the toll it takes. If you won't be easy on Granger for her, be easy on her for Pansy's sake. She is losing her mind over this."

He nearly cringed. "You should keep Pansy distanced from this. She shouldn't be so close to it again."

"No, she shouldn't, but she can't help feeling bad for her. She's been there before Draco; none of us should ever forget it." He was glaring at his lap, guilt clouding his chest.

His blond friend didn't pursue the topic just then, and chose to make a turn back to their original conversation. "The only person I can consider is Welsh, and every Death Eater out there I suppose."

Zabini nodded. "I would bet Welsh too. He's hitting her, so maybe he has been waiting for the perfect opportunity to end her."

He expected the pale boy to nod at this, but instead he shook his head. "I have an issue with it being Welsh though."

"And why is that?"

Draco was running a hand over his chin. "Welsh stopped reporting to work over a week before he made his last visit. If he had been the one here, then he wasn't doing it on business terms."

"What do you mean 'if'," his friend asked suspiciously.

"I mean, there's always the possibility that someone else was posing as him."

Blaise shook his head. "I doubt it. He has had basically the same attitude since the beginning right?"

Draco shrugged. "I suppose so."

"Then it had to be Welsh, he just wasn't worried about being professional last time, I guess."

The blond rolled his eyes. "That doesn't help me Zabini."

He shrugged. "Sorry."

They heard a loud thud hit the portrait, and both glanced up. Draco arched an eyebrow and attempted to ignore the noise, until three more thuds came. Annoyed, he stood and strode to the entrance, Blaise watching with mild interest at who it could be. Potter and his friends, perhaps?

The portrait opened. "Nott-"

He pushed by the blond, who whirled around as Theo wandered into the common room, setting himself in the chair he had just been in, moving it a bit to see into Granger's opened door. "Yes?"

"Get the bloody hell out of my room," he roared, drawing his wand. Blaise glanced up at him but held up two fingers, silently telling him to wait. Malfoy lowered his wand a bit, inclining his eyebrow again. Now what did Blaise want?

He drew his wand as well, but held it lazily in his hand. "Would you like to explain now why I need to be watching my girlfriend?" Draco nearly opened his mouth to ask who this girl was, but came to his own conclusion; Pansy. He talked about her a lot after all.

Theo shrugged. "I told you once Zabini, because he might go after her if he is inspecting you."

"But who is inspecting me," he snapped, eyes dark.

The boy grinned, and looked between the two boys around him. Standing, he grabbed his own wand and wandered towards Hermione's room, only to feel the tight grip of a hand stopping him. "Problem," the boy asked without turning around.

"Quite," Draco replied, looking past him into his roommates' room. He had put her under the potion's influence a while ago, and since then she had moved in her sleep. The tank-top that had been appropriate earlier was now too low, showing an awful lot of her chest to anyone who looked. Theo's gaze was obviously there, and the blond felt an emotion bubbling up in his chest with that bit of knowledge. Something about knowing Nott could see her like that was setting off his temper.

He spun the boy around quickly, keeping his tone startlingly cool. "Why do you keep getting yourself into situations like this with us, if you are hesitant to explain anything? It makes very little sense, don't you think?"

The boy shrugged, eyebrow raised. "I think it's rather effective actually, Malfoy. I seem to always be able to bother you when it comes to her." He jabbed a finger in her direction.

His eyes darkened. "Doesn't seem like a very good reason to be bothering to come up here so much."

Theo grinned. "No, but it sends a message doesn't it?"

Draco had him pulled closer then, angry eyes flashing. "What kind of message is that?"

He shrugged, throwing the taller boy's arms off, making sure to draw his wand and angle between his opposing housemates. "That he is still monitoring, watching. He'll never be done watching the two of you until you can be absolutely no use."

"Use to what," Blaise asked coolly, keeping his emotions in check as he faced two very irritated Slytherin's. It just wouldn't do to have all three of them trying to hex each other.

He cocked his head. "The plan. Although Malfoy probably won't be much use anyways. He doesn't want you around as it is," he said, turning cool eyes to the blond. "You're too connected to the enemy."

Draco opened his mouth to question him further but the boy had his mouth open in an instant, throwing up a shield curse that forced both of his opponents back. They stumbled, and he used that advantage to _apparate _from the room.

He left two confused Slytherin's in his wake. "Bloody hell," Blaise was muttering, looking at the entrance to Granger's room that Theo had occupied moments before.

"Impossible," Draco snapped, adjusting his now ruffled shirt. "You cannot apparate within Hogwarts. If you could, the Death Eaters would have done it during the war and saved hours of time."

His friend was shaking his head, looking around. "Maybe it wasn't apparition. Perhaps it's a different type of spell-"

"Then would you mind telling me what it is," he snapped shoving the nearby end table. "Fuck Blaise, things are just becoming more and more complicated here. Whatever Theo is going on about, it's fucking dangerous. He is using some sort of magic that even we aren't familiar with; I don't want to imagine where he dug that up from." He was pacing now, thinking quickly as his nerves frayed. _What the hell is Nott trying to drag us into?_

Blaise was now sitting on the arm of a chair, rubbing his forehead. "Whoever he is talking about knows something about us, knows our backgrounds it seems. He talks about watching us- fuck; he had been monitoring Pansy, for something. Whatever they want to drag us into, it's not good."

The blond was shaking his head. "It doesn't make any fucking sense! First her bloody Healer starts acting like some perverted, violent old man, disappearing from his work, and Nott is trying to recruit us for something, that we apparently do not yet fit the qualifications for. Those two things are too close together to be coincidental," he was saying, rambling now. Blaise had a raised eyebrow as Draco continued on.

"It's just as strange as Granger's cancer spreading so quickly, without reason. And it sincerely bothers me that she could get so awful and Welsh only thought to move her to the hospital at the very end of what would've been her life. Everything is a little strange Blaise, I tell you-"

"Malfoy," he cut in, standing now. "You're going to give yourself a headache. Nott either apparated out, or used a placement charm, or something, but whatever he did, I don't doubt that he is still within the castle."

He arched an eyebrow of his own now. "What makes you think that?"

"Because," Zabini said, giving him a nervous smirk as he glanced around the room once, "Nott is not the most powerful wizard out there. He would need to have apparated to get out of Hogwarts, and even the strongest wizards can't do that. A placement charm would only move him within the building. He's here someplace, and he will remain here tomorrow."

Draco nodded. "So we bother him tomorrow then? Damn Zabini, you're rather fucking collected for this whole dilemma! Doesn't this off-set you at all? I find it a bit unnerving that Nott can just appear wherever he pleases."

"I don't like it either," Blaise replied, eyes narrowed, "I do have a girlfriend you know Malfoy; Pansy actually, if you hadn't guessed by now-"

"I did."

"-he could appear in her room at anytime if he can disappear out of here. It's rather unsettling. At least here, Granger is one door away."

His eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. "Are you implying-?"

"It doesn't matter what I am implying Malfoy, because it is not important at the moment. I'm going to go find Pansy; you might see me again today, depending. I'm also going to see if I can spot Nott. He's not likely to assume that we will forget this little incident. In fact, I almost think he did that little escape of his poorly. I would have at least obliviated us before disappearing."

Malfoy rolled his eyes, thinking that reply was so very Blaise, even at a confusing time like this. "Great to know Zabini. I will just remain here then, bored out of my mind, waiting for Theo to come and try to murder my roommate." He was rolling his eyes again. "I wonder if you can put up wards around a room," he mused, hoping that would make his life easier.

"Why not," his friend snapped, throwing hi hands up. "It seems you can get away with anything else around here."

Draco shrugged, and fell onto the sofa. "Nothing makes sense anymore," he muttered, thinking about every confusing thing that had come into his life since Hermione bloody Granger caught his attention; letters, creepy doctors, uncharacteristically angry Slytherin's, too many visits with Potter, a partial slave, and a protective streak for that witch too. _Well great, it's not just tonight that is bizarre. The entire school year has been, thus far!_

_I wonder when things will begin to make sense._

His thoughts were interrupted by Blaise getting to his feet, fixing his friend with a cool stare. "Perhaps we should get McGonagall in on this. If Nott is bending the rules of the castle to his advantage, it could be dangerous for anyone here."

This caused a perplexed look to cross his friend's features. "You are actually worried about other people?"

The Italian shrugged. "I'm worried about what's running through Nott's head."

He left twenty minutes later to go and ensure that his girlfriend was alright. Draco had told him he would alert McGonagall of the threat, but he had no intention of doing that just yet. No, he was far more interested in figuring out what exactly Theo wanted them to join, or, _change _to join.

_Or whatever it bloody means. _

It took another hour for Draco to put up wards, mostly because it seemed that the room didn't take kindly to extra defenses. The castle seemed to believe that it was perfectly protected as it is, and after centuries of that being true, he couldn't blame it.

_Oh wonderful; now I'm talking as though the castle is alive! I must truly be losing my mind. _

He had already begun the next batch of Granger's potion, and was unfortunately ahead with his schoolwork, having had little to do in the room for so long. But no matter, they would be getting out soon enough, and then he could go back to having a semi-life; if you considered living at a school for most of the year a life.

Passing her room to enter his, he paused and leaned against her doorframe. She had barely moved since he had last looked in, right when Theo was staring at her, and the top was still dipping quite low. He decided that she had simply not thought about how it would shift as she slept, and this was the result of it.

He had yet to decide whether it was sexy or traumatizing to see so much of her skin. He decided it had to be the latter, but did not feel repulsed as he stared at her. She was quite beautiful, actually.

_Now I've really lost my bloody mind. _Against his better judgment, and years of trying to make the girl's life hard, he stepped forwards and tossed a sheet over her rather bare upper body, cursing himself as he did so. It would have been far easier to simply slam the door, right? So why did he even bother to get near her?

Draco didn't ponder the question, and instead turned and left the room, slamming her door as he should've done in the beginning.

* * *

><p>Around six that night, Draco found himself exceptionally bored in his bedroom. The room gave him an uneasy feeling as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He blamed it on finding Granger in there on the floor, over a week before.<p>

_I had just finished searching for Welsh, without any progress. Now all I can think about is who was in my dorm the other day, slapping my roommate. If he shows up again I will certainly have to talk to him. _

_I really wish I hadn't left Granger up here alone, if only because things have been so strange lately. I guess I could have waited for her friends to stop by, but Merlin knows when that would be._

_The living room was empty, and I had expected as much. She should be in her room, hopefully resting, so the stupid girl can get better as quickly as possible. I wander to her room and glance in, knowing she is probably sitting around, reading a book._

_I feel something in me drop a bit when I don't see her. Great; now I really have a problem. I'm about to storm out and find Zabini, when a quiet cry stops me. Intrigued, I walk into my room and arch an eyebrow._

_Granger is sitting on my floor near the closet, sniffling. I wonder for a moment if she has had a confrontation with someone, but there were no tell-tale marks anywhere. I approach the girl but she shies away, telling me to leave her alone._

"_I think not Granger; it's my room." She shrugs and looks at the floor, so I can't see her eyes. Infuriating Mudblood. Why won't she make things easy and scatter? I consider throwing some painful words her way, but refrain, barely. I opt to sit beside her, keeping my distance. "So what's wrong," I ask eventually, as the silence drags on._

_She just shakes her head, the tears gone now._

"_You really should have been resting instead of snooping through my belongings," I snap halfheartedly. I'm tired, and that's all that's keeping me from yelling at her until she either retaliates or runs to the Wonder Duo. I hope it's not the latter._

"_I was distracted," she said, still facing forwards. _

"_I can tell, otherwise you would not be in here. Looking for me perhaps?"_

"_I already knew you were out." _

_It took a lot of effort not to snap at the girl again. Why did I care about refraining from yelling at her exactly? I haven't a clue, but maybe it was the fact that this was the most civil conversation we had up until then that didn't involve pressing matters. She was in there for something, but I was in no mood to pester, unless I found something missing._

_Of course, I could've always demanded she tell me, since I have a hold over her. _

"_So why are you in here then?" She shrugged, but didn't answer me. I thought maybe she was afraid to say, but one look at her and I knew that wasn't the case. If there was any fear there, aside from her movement away from me when she sat down, she was hiding it exceptionally well._

_No, she looked to be in pain. Her mind appeared to be moving a million kilometers an hour, thinking like she had some sort of deadline. It doesn't seem quite right, and I wondered what it was. A few minutes passed, and I decided it was time to remove her from my room. The short sleeve shirt she wore was strange, since she typically opted to wear jackets and long sleeves when she was not bedridden lately. I wondered why that was._

_The only conclusion I could think of was scarring. But, why would Granger be scarred? Her treatments would not leave marks, and the war was over. Thinking of that girl of all people, I don't think those sorts of scars would ever bother her. She was a strong character, no matter how much it bugs me to admit, and hiding scars she received while fighting for what she believes in is just not her style. No, it had to be something else, but what?_

_She moves to stand and the wrist my aunt and carved into catches my eye. Reality comes slamming down, and I grab above the marks, her head whipping around to look at me. Her eyes are fearful now, unlike before, as she realizes what I had to be staring at. _

"_Malfoy-" she began, but I cut her off._

"_What is this," I practically growl, flipping her arm back to the scarred side so I can read exactly what it says. She stumbles down beside me, and I push the thought of how close she is out of my mind as my eyes take in the new word._

'_Mudblood' is certainly still there, the letters faded now. On top of that there is another word carved into her skin, a fatter blade having been used to make this word, and it takes a moment to differentiate between the letters to figure out what the new scarring says._

'_Mudblood' was written in by my aunt, but the new word, 'Failure', is foreign to me. I have no idea who put it there, but anger flashes through me that shouldn't exist. It's just Mudblood Granger after all, I shouldn't feel anything._

_But, she is my property, and to think someone did that same, awful thing to her again is sickening me. Twisted is a very vague word for how this processes through my mind._

_She won't look at me, so I use my other hand to grab her chin and make her look at me. Those tears are there again, and I wonder if it's from my hand touching the mark, which doesn't look completely healed yet (meaning that this is a _recent _marking on _my _property) or from the pain of the memory of whatever caused this. _

"_What happened to you," I hear myself asking, but the voice sounds foreign too. It's choked, like I don't' want to recognize what I'm seeing. The mark brings back memories of that time during the war, when I stood by and let a classmate be brutally tortured. My mind flashes to my own mark on my forearm, and I drop the thoughts entirely._

_She eases away from me, and I let her. Granger scrambles back, eyes big as she shakes her head. "You're not ready to know," she says quietly, turning and fleeing the room as she stumbles to her feet. I watch her go without making any move to stop her quick exit. _

_And I still had no idea why she had been in my room._

He sighs as the memory finishes. He had been avoiding Granger since, not quite sure what to say. What was all that shit about not being ready to know? She made it seem like it was someone he knew or Merlin's sake! Which was, ridiculous, to say the least. His aunt, who had done the original scar, was dead. No one was as vicious as her.

_That's a lie! My father once was, her husband, practically any member of my family that's alive…perhaps I don't even want to consider this? _

He shook his head, completely frustrated. Eventually, he would have to speak to Granger about that, but not for a while. _Hopefully until after she is cured. _

One can only hope for things to be so blissfully easy.

* * *

><p>Early on November fifth, twenty minutes before the Head Girl was supposed to wake up, Draco heard knocking on the portrait. Grumbling, he stalked towards it, and peered out using a spell. He was worried when he noticed the Headmistress, and was certain she had arrived to speak to the girl still currently under the influence of a powerful potion. <em>Bloody fantastic. <em>

He contemplated ignoring the woman, but decided she could easily just tell the portrait to allow her in, ignoring the new password he had set to keep Welsh from walking in entirely. And really, he wasn't thrilled by the thought of her trying to wake him up from his bed, probably using some terrible hex that would only entertain her. Or worse, if she tried to wake up Granger before the seventeen minutes were up.

_Bugger_. Before she could knock again, he swung the portrait open and gave her a cold glare. "It's early," he drawled, raising an eyebrow at the former professor.

"Good morning to you too Mr. Malfoy," she replied, looking at him a bit nervously. _He didn't even appear to have his wand with him, yet he was expected to be able to protect not only himself but also the life of Miss Granger? Hardly! The boy was unprepared, and perhaps skilled at Legilimency as well as Occlumency, but he would still pose no threat if he met with him like that. Merlin help them both! If only the Auror's had been summoned! _

If he picked up on her strange behavior he didn't comment. "And you. What do you need?"

"I am here to inquire about Miss Granger. I've heard she has yet to report to the hospital," she said carefully, making sure she said everything just right. Of course she knew the girl was on her way to somehow healing, but he didn't know that.

Draco shrugged. "I see. May I offer you some tea then since you trekked down here," he grumbled, looking annoyed. She blinked. What was wrong with him?

Thirteen minutes.

"Um, no thank you, Mr. Malfoy, I'm quite alright," she replied, perplexed. Yes, he was defiantly acting strange.

"So, how did you know she hadn't reported to the hospital," he continued, stalling. And, he was a bit curious, since Welsh seemed to think work held little importance.

Twelve minutes.

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Are you alright Mr. Malfoy?"

"Tired," he tried.

She nodded. "Healer Welsh sent me a notice first that she refused to return until Wednesday over a week ago, and then he sent me another letter three nights ago saying she was healing."

_Three nights ago hmm? _"And you don't find that a little strange, how she miraculously got better after developing such a rare type of cancer.

_Oh Draco, how little you do know. _"That's why I am here now. I gave her a few days to see if she decided to go after all, but seeing as she is still here, I've come to see her myself." _Lies! You only came down here today because that's what she suggested. Welsh's note did very little explaining, and he was too lazy to send it himself! That assistant of his sent it again. _

Ten minutes.

"Ah yes. Well, Granger has been sleeping in lately, since she has been sick. Typically she wakes up around nine, which is soon. Can you wait that long," he drawled.

_That sounds a bit more like the Malfoy brat that attends this school, but he still seems a bit out of character. I wonder why he is stalling. Oh well, ten minutes won't hurt I suppose. _"Very well," she sighed, sitting in one of the room's chairs. He sat on the couch, a bit further then necessary.

"When did Healer Welsh come by last," she asked after a short pause.

Nine minutes.

"Ah yes. Late last Wednesday," he replied, tone even. "I've been wondering why he hasn't reappeared since. She is an important patient after all," he continued, tone clipped now.

She nodded. "Yes, it's rather strange. I'll have to owl him and demand he comes to see her-"

At the mention of those words, Draco's mind lit up at an opportunity. "-or I can go get the man myself tomorrow morning. Annabelle said he had been sick lately, and if so then I can bring her instead." He cringed. Not only did he not have the patience for the clingy nurse, but he knew Welsh would not be at the hospital anyways. He just had a feeling.

She seemed hesitant to agree. Sending a student off like that was not common, and leaving Hermione alone even in the Head's common room was an uncomfortable thought. They didn't know anymore whether or not he could get in here, despite all the security. If they had heard anything authentic, then these new spells were powerful, and could get him inside. The man was probably waiting for the perfect opportunity to skin her. She shuddered at the thought.

The blond was still waiting for a reply. It would be easy to send her to St. Mungo's, even if it was not safest. Truth be told, as long as Malfoy had his wand, she believed he could beat his relative. But still, it wasn't comforting sending them, especially her, to a less secure place like that. If he found out, he would be there instantaneously.

Still, if the girl was recovering, she wanted someone to look at her and make sure the bloody cure was going smoothly, and not killing her some other way. It was a toss up, between her health and safety.

"I think an owl will suffice Mr. Malfoy," she replied, noticing the annoyed look in his eyes as she said this. Obviously, he had hoped for a different response.

"Would you like your tea now," he asked, seeming to ignore her last statement. She decided to as well, letting the boy disappear into the kitchen alone.

Four minutes.

He picked up a mug and spelled it warm, his irritation obvious. He needed to go back and see things again, but decided so long as Welsh didn't show up tomorrow; he would go and see things himself. After all, he couldn't just leave her to defend herself in case he did return.

And Draco had the sneaking suspicion he wouldn't.

He wasted the remaining minutes making her tea, glad to have something else to do. Once it was complete, he brought it back to her, in time to see the head girl stumble out of her room in the skin baring tank top and comfortable pajama pants. She noticed the Headmistress and let her eyes grow wide, hands instantly moving to adjust her shirt. The woman quirked an eyebrow.

"Miss Granger, you're looking well," she said, taking the girl in. She looked a bit more filled out; healthier. Her hair had a bit of a shine and her eyes some sparkle. Her skin had returned to a normal color, minus the red patches on her arms and shoulders. Draco didn't miss her trying to press her scarred arm into her side, or those tell-tale red spots.

"Thank you," she said politely, giving a tight smile. She was obviously uncomfortable about something, be it her attire or the situation. Draco couldn't help but smirk at that.

The woman talked for a while, about how she was feeling and the need to catch up on her schoolwork. She was delighted when McGonagall agreed to check in again in a week and a half to determine when to allow her to return to class.

Draco was just happy that it would be after her final dose. Coincidental, don't you think?

Around nine-thirty, the Headmistress stood and said her goodbyes, shaking both head's hands. Hermione was clutching his arm as she left, and the blond fought the urge to shake her off him.

As soon as the portrait closed, she hit the floor. His eyebrows drew together and he reached down to remove the undignified heap from their common room floor, like he had done weeks before.

Something flashed through his mind_; irritated, red patches of skin_, _collapsing when walking. _Oh great, more side affects. He picked her up and moved to take her to her room, her body cradled against his for once instead of held away a bit.

She was giving him a strange look. He glanced down as he plopped her on the bed. "What?"

"You were nice when you carried me," she said, confused.

He rolled his eyes. Maybe he wasn't as vicious, but there was nothing nice about the action according to him. "Whatever Granger, just rest; you're still being affected."

She nodded as he turned and swept out of the room, not sparing her a backwards glance. Their mutual relationship had been so strange lately, and she didn't even know what to make of that. The way he carried her wasn't loving; it wasn't even really caring. But it wasn't gruff like before.

Something was changing.


	14. Wipe Away All of Your Tears

**A/n: **So, a bit of a fight and betrayal here, and then you guys get some answers in the next several chapters. I think you will all like that :D So as always, read and review please! Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**!

**Danibs: **Yes, that is very fun..

**Eric: **It could be the same man...and the flashback was fun! I think that was one of my shorter reviews from you :) But, either way, I love the feedback!

**Daddy: **There is a reason!

**They Call Me Ginger: **Ah yes, the blade...it's possible! We will have to see though..

**justine: **Well, here is some of that!

**Jelisha Baby 22: **I hope it is.

**Bambi: **You will find out soon enough!

* * *

><p><strong>Wipe Away All of Your Tears<strong>

Draco woke up in a terrible mood. He hadn't slept well, and had mostly spent the night puzzling over a multitude of things: why Welsh was acting so strangely, why Granger took a hit without some large curse following, the prospect of Granger having someone out to kill her, his father, the carved word on her flesh, the deal, and just about everything else that had been going on lately. It was beginning to take a toll.

He went to prepare breakfast, not even bothering to see how she was doing herself. He seemed to be far too involved in whatever issues the girl had. He had concluded that whatever caused her disease to spread so fast had to be magic of some sort, and he was willing to bet it was done by someone trying to kill her, not help her. He cringed. He seemed to have gotten himself into a mess, and wanted to forget the entire past month.

The only problem with that was that the girl in question still shared a dorm with him, and she was still in debt to him until his requirements for the deal were complete, which meant he could hopefully be rid of her after Christmas, more than a month away. The blond groaned and headed back to his room, surprised to find a bird tapping on that window for once instead of the living room. He opened it to allow the owl in, cringing at the cold wind as it attacked his naked chest.

It was his mother's bird, and it made itself right at home on Malfoy's bedside table. He grumbled, and untied the letter – and newspaper – from the bird's leg, beckoning towards the bag of food without a glance. Thankfully, the bird hopped over and began munching, not paying him a second thought.

He paled a bit. It was a howler. His stomach dropped. Oh no, what had his mother discovered? Cautiously, he opened the envelope and her voice filled his ears:

_Draco~_

_What have you done? I've seen the paper dear, and let me tell you, I am severely disappointed! Miss Granger, of all people? Your father was horrified! This is the only thing I have found that has caught his attention in months son, and all he could say was "He's helping the Mudblood?" How could you do this? I warned you, and yet you've embarked on this dangerous road? Your father may actually have something to say to you when you return for the holidays! If this is how I must snap my husband from his own mind, then I will not be grateful. This is dangerous, and will get us all the wrong publicity._

_I'm sure Hermione Granger is a nice enough girl, but the families will talk, and they will come to a conclusion quickly enough! What are you having the poor girl do? If you mistreat her I will have some very rude things to say to you when you come home. Really Draco! I cannot believe you went through with this._

_Is the girl alright? How are the side effects? I looked in our library for the book when I saw this, and low and behold, the book is not here. You must have it then – but of course you do! How else would you have known the potion, the spell… oh, how did you even get those ingredients? You cannot find those anywhere near the school!_

_I am disappointed in you. This is just going to make life hard for the both of you, rest assured. I have half a mind to get in contact with that Headmistress of yours, to make sure nothing is done to either of you in this deal, but I can't decide if it's a good idea. Trust me Draco, if I decide to go through with it you will know quickly!_

_As for Miss Parkinson, I have already talked to her… mother, and she has informed me that her daughter already has a date for our Ball. You must find a woman to escort son – and don't think about that Granger girl! Every Pureblood there would eat her alive! Don't you dare put that girl through it! Not only that, but then every rumor these people are going to spread about you and her would be true, and that simply can't happen!_

_Find a date for the Ball Draco, and make sure Miss Granger's deal is finished soon. There should be no connections! You have made such a mistake son, and you can't even fully see it yet. Please, do not drag this out!_

_~Mother_

The howler finished its rant, and tore itself up. Draco was feeling a bit paler then usual, and slumped in his bed. His mother knew, and his father even processed what had happened. That in itself was a miracle, but a terrible one. He could only imagine how his father would chew him out during the holidays, if he remembered at all by then. But his mother was another story; she would remember, no matter what. It is, after all, her family's cure. She knew more about it than he understood, and may ever understand.

Why did she make it so drastic though? Wasn't it a good bloody thing that he did something right and saved her life? Sure, he was getting something out of it, but still, he did keep her alive. And that part was nearly complete. And anyways, he wasn't doing anything to awful to her, was he? She would work on his father a bit, get him out of that stupid Ball that his mother thought he planned to _take _her to, and not tell his secret. Nothing bad at all.

He sighed and looked over at the Daily Prophet. Did he even want to read that? He knew it was probably needed. Reaching over, he opened the paper to its full size and inclined an eyebrow at the cover story.

_Golden Trio Member Escapes Positive Death_

_Hermione Granger, featured right, is a renowned war hero and best friend to Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. The girl, known commonly for being a muggle-born bookworm, with a high intelligence and witty comebacks, was reported just yesterday to have been dying. Your lead reporter took an interview from the girl's own Healer, Daniel Welsh, about her condition:_

"_When I first met Miss Granger, I knew she was doing awful. The Headmistress of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall, had contacted St. Mungo's personally, and I was asked to take care of her. We discovered she had a deadly case of Sarcoma, a cancer without a cure. I knew the girl would have no chance."_

"_She got progressively worse very fast, and I was going to admit her to St. Mungo's for a permanent stay on October 16, but she promptly refused to come until a few days had passed. I left her in the care of Draco Malfoy, the student appointed to take care of her as she got sicker, and when I returned to come get her, certain she would be completely ready, I was thoroughly surprised to find her looking better then she had in nearly two weeks. I had no idea what had gone on, and asked the both of them a multitude of questions, but neither teen seemed to want to indulge any information. Miss Granger remains at Hogwarts now, having miraculously recovered."_

_Doctor D. Welsh also commented that he thought there had to be something more; there is no way the girl just recovered. He speculated that "Mr. D Malfoy had some sort of involvement in Miss H. Granger's recovery, but didn't give us any hints about what he really thinks. Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy, featured right with different pictures of them from school, seem to have their own secrets about what happened to save her life._

_Sarcoma is a deadly cancer that is extremely rare. Patients, muggle or magical, never survive it. We can only assume Mr. D. Malfoy had some sort of trick up his sleeve to save her life, else someone else stepped in and did the same thing. Investigations will be taken to uncover what happened – a medical breakthrough like this would be groundbreaking!_

He stopped reading the article there and threw the paper off his bed. _Shit, Granger's loudmouth, perverse Healer is going around, blabbing about things he doesn't even come to see anymore! I like how he completely ignores the fact that he left a nice hand print on her face…_

He shakes his head. No, he couldn't be focusing on Welsh solely just then; there was a much bigger picture to look at. Because 'Welsh', or not Welsh, or whoever it was, had told the press all about Granger's deadly disease, his mother had found out. Draco himself knew very well that no one had known before, just because he had not received a letter from his mother saying not to help Hermione Granger, just not to help _the girl _

Malfoy put his head in his hands and groaned. As if things weren't difficult enough, now they were going to be bombarded by the press – well, at least Granger would be. He couldn't say the same about himself; they had only guessed that he was involved. That would certainly make people turn to him questionably, but there was no proof. However, I would probably have to answer some questions, nonetheless.

_Telling Granger she cannot, under any circumstances, tell anyone that I gave her the cure is definitely the best idea I've had. That's going to be the only thing that saves me from mother's wrath. She is definitely displeased that I went behind her back. Oh well, I really can't worry about that at the moment. _

He knew Blaise would be up there to talk to him the second he saw the paper, and Granger's friends were sure to follow with questions of their own. Bloody hell, could anything be easy anymore?

_It's interesting that Welsh went to the paper and told them all about Granger, without even trying to get her to comment. For all anyone knows, this could all be rubbish._

He doubted it would be that easy. The only benefit he saw about Hogwarts just then was that the news reporters would never be allowed in the school to harass students. It would only be when they left the castle that there would be problems, and hopefully that wouldn't be until Christmas break.

Draco threw his pillow as another thought occurred; the student body would be in an uproar. He was certain only a few people even knew Granger was on her deathbed, and it would not go over well for people to find out this way, especially her dear Gryffindors. He wondered how many of them would be mad at her for keeping this from them.

And he could only imagine what the Slytherin's would say when word got out that he had possibly aided the Mudblood know-it-all. Any Pureblood in that house, and any other house, would buy the story in an instant, because they all knew about those lovely 'deals'. Angry housemates he could deal with, but he wasn't so sure about the girl. She would just be done with her potions, and still recovering. A shove down a tall flight of stairs would be enough to kill her, and then he wouldn't get anything out of this except a headache.

_Why the hell did Welsh have to go and make a bigger mess of everything? _He frowned, and read the top again. _Reported just yesterday to have been dying? Had that been Welsh too? _

That didn't make sense. Welsh couldn't get to his job, but he could go and spill secrets to a rather huge newspaper. He thought it was a bit odd that the Daily Prophet published something with so little facts, and on the front page of all things! It sounded more like the gossip ditzy women read in magazines or newspapers like Witch Weekly.

He wondered what the point of all of that was. What did the Healer even have to gain? He didn't need publicity, especially if his job was looking for him. So, why exactly had he done it?

Malfoy stood, completely ignoring his mother's letter. Bringing the paper to him, he walked towards Granger's room when a thunderous knock echoed through the dorm.

_Great, just what I need. I wonder if it's reporters, Gryffindors, Slytherin's, or the whole bloody school. _The tall blond ignored the noise and continued walking to Granger's room, until it came again and distant screams could be heard.

_Splendid. _Tossing the paper onto a chest by her door, he turned and stalked all the way back across the common room, opening the door just wide enough that the magically enhanced chain would keep people out.

He was looking directly at Weasel's face.

"What did you do to her Malfoy," he screamed, wand drawn as he attempted to push open the door and hex him all at the same time. "Where is Hermione?"

He wanted to shove the door shut. Really? Barely breakfast time in the great hall and Weasley is already here to cause trouble over the paper? "Wea-"

"What's going on," Granger says, and he frowns. Did he want to shove her into the hall to deal with her friends herself, or be there to listen?

He turns and glances at her. "Your friend is having some issues dealing with the article in the paper."

"What article," she asks, eyes suddenly growing large. "Where is the paper? Which one?"

Malfoy can barely resist the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he nods his head to the door where Weasley is now glaring through at her. "I think I will just let Weasel explain," he continues, unlatching the lock. Granger gives him a scared look for a moment before the door is thrown open, narrowly missing Draco.

"So when were you planning on telling us," Ron screams, not even bothering to be considerate. Harry, Ginny and Neville file in after him, each wearing an unreadable expression. Malfoy rolls his eyes and turns to go back to his room, when Ron's voice catches his attention as well. "You too Malfoy; when were you going to tell everyone you were on good terms with her?"

Draco scoffs, and leans against the couch. "That article in the Prophet is rubbish Weasley; don't think for a moment I would help your bossy Gryffindor friend. I'm sure she can answer all of your questions anyways."

Potter seems intrigued now, and glances at the blond. "You are just as questionable as Hermione is."

"Excuse me," she cuts in, sitting on the couch facing them, and pointedly ignoring Malfoy, "what is questionable about me? I believe I have a right to know what's going on before you guys start accusing me of things. What are you talking about?"

"So you haven't seen the paper then," the ginger grumbles, still red in the face. His sister glares at the back of his head.

"No, what about the paper," she asks slowly, fear creeping into her voice. _No, they couldn't have found out. I have done everything possible to cover it, no one can ever know about them! Besides, I don't really think they would be angry at me over their death. Pity me maybe, but angry? _

Neville pipes up, "Maybe you should read the Prophet first Hermione. It's all over the front page."

She glances at Malfoy, who shrugs and wordlessly brings the paper in from her room, earning a few stares. Wandless magic from him is surprising, seeing as he never used them in the war. Well, from what the staring people knew, at least.

The paper landed in her hands, and her face froze as she read the article. Oh Merlin, no wonder they seemed so mad! She had never gotten around to telling them about the cancer…

Hermione stares down at the picture of her 'Healer' Daniel Welsh, and can feel her stomach drop. There is absolutely no way it's him…

She wanted to look back at Draco and scream at him to get a hold of his mother or Andromeda or Tonks, and make sure he went back to Azkaban. Knowing it was him sickened her. Only he would do something like this… Welsh himself had been too nice, the few times she actually did see the real him, and not the imposter.

But it wasn't time to think about that, Ron was ranting about something again.

"…worried about you and you were lying to us! Come on Hermione, you could've told us instead of this prick." He indicated to Malfoy who looked completely unmoved by the entire argument. She really wished they had chosen to yell at him… her skin was irritated and red, and the dream she had just escaped did nothing to calm her mood. Everything was slamming into her at once. "Why did you lie? Didn't you ever think that we deserved to know the truth?"

"Of course I did," she began, but Ron seemed to be having none of it. He cut her off.

"You would've died and we would have not even known you were that bad. Come on, we deserve to know! Don't your friends deserve to know anything?"

"Yes-"

"But you still didn't tell us the truth anyway," Harry sighed, far calmer then Ron was. He looked crestfallen that she had lied, but he wasn't screaming at her like the other boy was. Ginny's lips were set in a thin line, and Neville just looked remarkably uncomfortable. She wondered if he had been planning on coming up here at all, or if he just ended up being drug along by the other three students.

"I couldn't-"

"You're a fucking liar," Ron continued, and she flinched at his words. It was obvious that he was angry, but did he really have to curse at her. Draco noticed the reaction, but continued to say nothing. "You lied to all of us, and you didn't even so much as feel guilty-"

"Of course I feel guilty! I didn't know how to tell any of you!"

But he just continued talking right over her, "about it. Fuck, you trusted the ferret more then you trust your friends! What is wrong with you Hermione? You would never have trusted him before!"

Harry looked over at his friend, beginning to get nervous. They had agreed to come and talk to her, not yell at her until their voices were hoarse. This had gone far enough. "Ron-"

"I wonder what he made you give him," the redhead continued, and Draco raised an eyebrow. Of course Weasley would at least have some idea about the cures, even if his own family no longer had one. They were Purebloods, even if they were poor excuses for them. The younger Weasel seemed to be thinking the same thing. Harry looked thrown, and Neville was rubbing his arm uncomfortably.

Her cheeks reddened. By the look in his eyes, she didn't want to know all the terrible things he had thought up; the same things anyone who knew about these deals would also probably also think up. "Malfoy didn't help me," she said, knowing very well that her deal would prevent her from saying anything about it.

He clicked his tongue. "I sincerely doubt it. The paper had a point; you two have been spending a lot of time together. He's the perfect candidate for having helped you."

"But he didn't," she stressed, wringing her hands. Curses! She couldn't say anything and it was putting a lot of stress on her shoulders. The idea of defending Malfoy to all of them put a fowl taste in her mouth, but she couldn't take much more of Ron's screaming either.

"I wish you had told us," Ginny cut in, eyes misty. Hermione wondered why exactly this would make her cry, when she was the one being yelled at and interrogated by her closest friends. Se might have been lied to, but it was no where near what she was dealing with.

They had no idea what she had been through that summer, and who she had the displeasure of meeting face to face. They didn't know about the new scars she had or the new word carved over "Mudblood". They didn't know she had an insane man impersonating her Healer to get close to her, and that Malfoy truly had been the only reason she lived. They didn't know that his deal was livable, if not frightfully controlling. They just didn't know.

_When did I start pushing my friends away? _She cringed, but not from whatever Ron was saying now. She knew exactly when she had started pulling away. It was the day he stepped into her life.

"…that some insufferable bitch would do-"

"What," she asked, thrown. Had Ron just called her a bitch? Yes, she had lied, but the yelling was bad enough. He didn't have to finish it off with insults. "Ron, I didn't tell you because-"

"I don't want to hear it," he cut in, and she wondered what she had missed. Glancing back, she looked pleadingly at Malfoy, but he was giving the group a strange look. Obviously, he would be no help here. "We can't trust you to be truthful about something serious, which is so sad. I need to be able to trust you Hermione, but I'm sorry, I can't after this. I need some time to think about all of this."

"What," she repeated, not sure where he was going. This couldn't be Ron! He was so understand the last few times he had been up here, even if he did try to kill Draco repeatedly. Why did he have to flip around so quickly? If she could just explain, maybe he would see it.

_But, I can't. Malfoy won't let me say anything, because of our deal. And I can't tell them the background history that led to all of this, because I can't even think about it yet. Maybe it doesn't matter if I try and explain; it won't make much sense anyways._

"You heard me," he snapped, turning on his heel. "You need to do some serious thinking Hermione, get your priorities straight. If the damn ferret is so important to you, then you should've said something. But, you didn't, and you didn't even have the courteously to explain anything to us. Until you decide what's going on in your head, I don't want to listen." He stomped towards the exit.

"Hold on Ron," Harry said, and she nearly thought of him as the savior just then. He didn't turn around to face her, but he stopped walking at least. "Maybe Hermione would like to explain to us." He looked at her hopefully, wondering if she would tell them anything at all.

Her heart plummeted. She couldn't tell him. "I…well, I-"

"See Harry," he grumbled, she won't tell us."

"Or she doesn't have the ability to tell you," Malfoy offered, smirking. She closed her eyes, hating him for deciding it would be a good idea to throw that in.

Potter's eyes flashed. "What does that mean," he asked, not bothering to draw his wand. That would get them nowhere, and he was almost certain Ron would if this went on much longer. He was already hurt that she couldn't trust them; they all were.

The blond shrugged, and leaning against the couch the Gryffindor's got the sneaky suspicion that he was protecting her. His position, just behind her and stiff, made him look tense, even if his face were relaxed. That was the strangest thing to look at. "I mean, you obviously have no idea what's going on with her. I don't even know what is fucking going on with her. Don't blame her for not telling you things when you have no idea what's been going on, and you were too bloody stupid to ask."

Ron spun around. "She should have told us anyways! We would tell her." He looked back at Hermione, who was both furious at her friend's words and hurt by them. "Whatever Malfoy, you can have her for all I care; she lies, just like you."

She felt like he had punched her. Ron was taking it way to far, and it seemed that Neville agreed. "Hey," he said, glancing at everyone, "that's a bit uncalled for-"

"Then side with her," the ginger snapped. Before anyone could say anything again, he turned and stormed out of the dorm, not looking back.

There was a small silence before Hermione felt her tears prickling her eyes. He really was being an over reactive jerk today! She could deal with Ron later though; there were three other people still looking at her. "Harry-"

He held up a hand and sighed. "I need to go find Ron Hermione," he said, stepping away. "I need to think; we all came up here to try and keep him in line anyways." He turned to go, and Ginny clasped his hand to follow.

"Ginny…"

"I need to think too Hermione," she said as she walked out. "I don't think you are terrible or anything," she continued, glancing back, "but I still want time to think before I accuse you." The pair disappeared.

She tried to be thankful that Ginny was trying to be understanding, but she felt more heartbroken then before. Her earlier assumptions that keeping them in the dark was a good idea had been wrong, and now she was paying for it. Without a bit of hope, she looked over at the only remaining visitor.

He shrugged, glancing between the pair uncomfortably. "I'm sure you had a good reason," Neville tried, smiling at her the best he could. It did very little to settle her nerves.

* * *

><p>Once Neville had left, she spun and pointed a finger at Malfoy. "You! This is all your fault!" She shoved him, but found that her strength had yet to be rebuilt. Darn, he barely moved.<p>

"My fault? How is this my bloody fault," he asked, eyes narrowing. "I didn't tell the papers your beloved secret."

"It's your secret," she snarled, pulling at her hair. "You made me be quiet! You told me that I can't tell anyone you saved me! I can't tell anyone the truth!" She had started pacing. "And now my friends think that I'm nothing but a liar!"

"Some friends," he said without much interest. "Weasley did call you a bitch, and a liar, and pretty much insulted you any way possible. He definitely isn't the friendliest of your little group."

She threw her hands up. "And that's your fault too! Ron wouldn't be so rude, so _hurt_, if he understood! But I couldn't tell them anything, and now they all think I don't trust them!" Granger was jabbing his chest, her eyes burning from the effort it took to keep her tears at bay. There would be no crying in front of him under any circumstances.

He pushed her hand aside. "Well, you didn't have to go straight into the details about me, now did you? You could always start with when this disease began, how it started, what caused it - if anything – and those lovely details. I'm sure it would have done you a lot of good. Maybe then your friends would be understanding, pitiful helpers to get you through all of this." Draco rolled his eyes.

She hit him for that, right across the face. It caught him off guard by just how much force she had thrown into that slap, and wondered if she would collapse now. Still, he flipped his head around and glared daggers at her. "Don't place the blame elsewhere," she hissed.

"You should take your own advice," he replied, reaching up to squeeze her arms tightly. She didn't flinch away from him however. "Don't start blaming me for your misfortune; its that Healer of yours that's indulging private information. If I were you, I'd be worried about finding him, not blaming me."

She wanted to scream that it wasn't Welsh who had indulged that information, but held her tongue. What good would that do, except make him think she was lying? As far as the blond knew, Welsh had no imposters, which just made him that much more naïve about his own family.

A thought entered her mind, and it caused a smile to spread across her face. Her friends might be angry at her just then, but she knew this would just annoy the hell out of Malfoy. "Then take me to go see him. I have several things to say."

He frowned. "Granger, you are now known for being deathly ill. I'm not taking you anywhere. Besides, Welsh is coming later today, you can speak with him then." He removed his hands, and "forgot" to wipe them clean.

She wanted to kick him. "You think he will come here after revealing something like that? I doubt it Malfoy! He knows that we won't be happy with this, and he won't show!" She bit her tongue, silently reminding herself to say 'Welsh' and 'he', not his name.

Malfoy shrugged. "He's a stupid bloke Granger, you never know."

_No Malfoy, I know! He is a rather brilliant 'bloke' and he certainly won't be here later! I need you to help me find the real Welsh you absolute git!_

She couldn't do anymore arguing just then. There was too much to deal with. Not only did she have Welsh to find, and hopefully get to reveal something, but she had this useless human to bring along. He would be a bit thrown at least if she willingly traveled with Draco. And why not? She knew there had to be a reason he was still stuck watching her, and she was absolutely certain it was him.

Plus, now she would need to get out of there and some point and speak to her friends, else owl them. There would be a lot of people to handle seeing, now that this was public. But she wondered what made him think it was a good idea to go to the press. So what if people knew? It wouldn't do him any good. So long as she was inside the castle, and more importantly, Malfoy, he couldn't harm her.

They shared the same blood, and that was terrifying.

She glanced up into his eyes. How could he not know?

"If he doesn't show up today," she said shouldering him away the best she could, "then we have to go looking for him."

"I'm not going-"

"We have to," she said, turning to glare at him. Ron's words had gotten the best of her earlier, and she had muttered like a complete fool, almost crying just because he had to be a jerk and make her feel worse. There was no way she was going to back down on this. "Trust me Malfoy, we have to."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure we do."

But she was already shaking her head again, throwing her heads up and walking to her room again. "You just don't understand."

"I don't understand what," he snapped, but her bedroom door was already slamming itself shut.

* * *

><p>He was waiting for Annabelle to leave.<p>

"Is there anything else," she asked, glancing at him, yet _again_, instead of the girl in question. "I'm sure he will be by soon enough to explain himself," she continued, again trying to help out her boss. He had been extremely odd the last time she had seen him, and now she had read the article in the newspaper, and felt rather horrified that he had revealed all of that.

"No," both teens said at the same time, not even glancing at each other.

She nodded in defeat. "Alright, I will be going then." She turned to go, but glanced back when she reached the door. "When I see him, I'll let you know."

Hermione nodded stiffly, and she left. As soon as the portrait shut, she turned to the blond who was already trying to leave. "We need to find him."

"No, we don't. And when did this 'we' nonsense start? I won't be helping you with anything Granger, so stop pestering me." He turned and headed for his room.

"Malfoy," she said, following him. "We need to go and check-"

"Why," he snapped, turning around to glare. She didn't waver under his gaze, and her defiance was really annoying him today. It was barely three!

"Because I need to speak with my Healer!" _Well, the imposter Healer. _

He smirked then, and leaned a bit closer. "Then find someone else to do it." Spinning, he left her alone and slammed his bedroom door.

Hermione sighed, feeling very worn. He would be difficult, and she couldn't explain to him either why they needed to go. He wasn't ready to know, and she wasn't ready to tell. Merlin, was there anything she could say freely anymore?

No, she didn't think so. Wandering back to her room, she threw herself on the bed, ignoring the red patches. It wasn't even four that day and she just wanted it to be over. Enough drama had happened, and right now was really the wrong time for a fallout with her friends.

She needed them, and although Malfoy might be the best to be around for now, that didn't mean she wanted to tell him things. He was still Malfoy, and they could never trust each other. Just then, she felt very alone in the world.

Hermione Granger felt just as alone as they day he killed them both. Her hand reached instinctively to the red bandana at her side, and clasped it to her breast, tears slowly falling at the painful memory.

It would figure Malfoy's family would always be the reason for her pain.

* * *

><p><strong>An: **Next, the real Welsh makes a horrible entrance and Draco asks too many questions...


	15. When You'd Scream I'd

**When You'd Scream I'd**

He could hear her retching sobs through their thin wall, and it was driving him insane. Did it really matter that bloody much to her that they just _had _to go looking? He had already been planning to go searching for the sketchy man, but he didn't really need Granger's dead weight tagging along. She was still under the influence of the heavy medicine, and would be a bit off until several days after the last dose. He couldn't help it; the potion had a lasting effect. It was fighting a rare type of cancer, after all.

But those cries were driving him mad. It could not be that important to her, it simply couldn't be. It was the bloody, lying Healer who hit her for Merlin's sake! She needed to get a grip!

The tears had been going on for twenty minutes, and he was beginning to wonder if she would dehydrate herself. Was mood swings on that list of side effects? He couldn't recall, but it may explain her sudden jump from angry to sad, and at such dramatic differences.

He couldn't take it anymore! Jerking from his bed, he got up and left the room, throwing her bedroom door open without admittance, because it didn't sound like she was up for letting people in. Oh well, he had it all taken care of.

Granger lay in a heap on her bed, pillow shoved into her face as she cried, some red scrap of fabric shoved against her body, barely visible. He wondered if she planned to suffocate herself or not. Stepping over without the girl even looking up once, he took her shoulder and flipped her on her back, glaring down. Startled, she gasped, and probably let some needed air in.

"You're going to kill yourself doing that," he spat, obviously annoyed. The girl looked a complete mess, with her puffy red eyes and sticky skin, having apparently been sweating as she lay beneath her covers. He nodded his head tightly towards the pillow he had just removed her from, figuring she could get the message.

She immediately sat up and began to wipe her face, rubbing at her eyes which caused them to become redder. She set the piece of fabric beneath her pillow, trying in vain to fix her mess of hair as she took more needed gulps of air.

"It's not what I intended," she said eventually, looking up at him. He was gazing down with less malice then usual, and she wondered why that would be.

"You really don't have to sob your eyes out because I won't come with you to find the bloody Healer. Just ask your dear, over reactive friends to take you." He said it all in a mocking tone, and she didn't want to figure out if he were serious or not. It was Malfoy after all, so he could be.

"It has nothing to do with that," she said, her breathing finally back to normal, "although if you would take me I would still appreciate it."

He rolled his eyes. "We had this discussion less then an hour ago Granger. I'm not taking you to the bloody hospital to be harassed by reporters about that fucking article Welsh wrote, and I'm certainly not going to sneak out of the castle with you either."

She nodded, her eyes dancing as an idea came to mind. He already knew her mind would come up with something. "Let's Floo Annabelle. I'm sure she will be able to tell us something."

"Or nothing at all," he muttered, but it was no use. Hermione was already bounding out of bed, ready to go and try to contact that useless nurse. He didn't want to follow the girl, but didn't really care to stand there beside her bed either. Groaning, he turned and followed, finding her in the living room, already trying to reach her.

He slouched down on the couch and decided to sit back and let her waste her time, before he threw it back in her face that Annabelle was probably both unavailable and, if she were reachable, unhelpful.

"Hi Annabelle," he heard her say, and mentally cursed. Of course Granger would be able to reach whoever she damn well pleased. "Is um, is Healer Welsh there?"

_Yes, that's convincing Granger. _He zoned out part of the conversation, choosing instead to settle back against the couch and perhaps catch a short nap before Granger got in his face again. She was rather pleading that _he _specifically came, and that was bothersome. He was not devoted to her by any means, and although he had told her on more then one occasion that he protects his property, that didn't mean he needed to escort her everywhere.

"Malfoy," she said at some point, and drew him out of his half sleep, half thoughtful process. He cracked an eye open, but couldn't see her in front of him, and took it as a sigh that it would be alright to shut his eyes again.

"Malfoy," she said a few seconds later, this time louder. He opened the same eye again, and unfortunately, she was in front of him glaring this time. "Would you get up? Nurse Day has something to discuss with the both of us."

"It's 'Nurse Day' now," he mocked, not moving. "I thought you were going to keep calling her Annabelle."

She sighed. "Move Malfoy. She wants to talk to both of us."

He waved his hand. "I can hear the two of you just find from here. Now go away – don't look at me like that; I'll listen."

Hermione huffed but turned away. He listened to her footsteps as she moved away, back to the fireplace. "Malfoy's listening; he's just too lazy to move."

_Bloody bitch. _He cut his own thoughts off to zone in on whatever nonsense the nurse was going to start telling them. "Healer Welsh has not been to the office in quite sometime. I think he is having problems at home. You can call his house Floo if you would prefer, since Miss Granger _claims _this is so dire." He could hear the sarcasm there and smirked. "However, it is doubtful that you will get a response because no one seems to be able to contact him, and the Floo has been cut off, even from me. Good luck."

The connection cut and all he could do was roll his eyes. That was useless, and Annabelle couldn't have been less joyous. Then again, he wasn't very joyous about this topic either.

"Let's try it," she said, turning to look at him.

He scoffed. "Granger, you're wasting your time. She just said we aren't going to get an answer. Whatever your issue with finding Welsh is, give up. It's not working." _Stop dragging me around this room to waste my time. You aren't going to find him and even if you do, I doubt you are the best person to send looking for him. You are just going to give me more to bloody watch you from, and I shouldn't be watching you at all! I just can't lose you, because I've invested too much time into you to saving your fucking life… _He glared as she cut off Annabelle's connection, and instead of trying to call him as well, picked up some Floo powder.

He scowled. "Now you are just going to make a dusty mess when the fireplace rejects you. Come on Granger, Floo networks don't work here."

She frowned, but dropped the powder. "You're right."

The blond was eyeing the small bag of Floo powder he had never noticed before as she turned and walked quickly to her bedroom. He had barely registered this when she reappeared with a pair of shoes in her hand. "Just what do you think you are doing," he asked suddenly, his glare back in place. "There is absolutely no way you are leaving this room."

"Really now," she taunted, grabbing her wand and quickly bringing his to her. "I would like to say that I am."

His eyes darkened considerably. "Give me my wand Granger."

She shoved the other shoe on, eyes never leaving his gaze. There was no doubt that if he could grab her, magic would be almost irrelevant once the wand was pushed in another direction. She didn't know wandless magic or any of those fancy spells, having never had the time to learn them, since she was quite busy Healing in the war instead of killing. He on the other hand knew those sorts of things; she had seen it firsthand more then once. "Come with me to find Welsh."

"It's not that bloody important you know Granger," he snapped. "The man hit you; you shouldn't be going looking for him." She visibly flinched but he chose to ignore it. "Now give me my wand."

She grabbed her bag of powder and shoved it in her pocket, fearful that where they were going, there would be none to return with. "No."

He scowled and took a step forward.

* * *

><p>After twenty minutes of arguing, a short chase down the upstairs hall, a dip into a hidden alcove, rushing hurriedly down a set of haphazard stairs that Hermione nearly toppled off of twice - and was thankful Malfoy had followed her this far, if only to save her life – across a field that Draco noted could be spotted from the Magical Creatures class, and into the outskirts of the forest, she finally collapsed.<p>

"I'm glad to see you bloody stopped," he spat, leaning on a tree for a moment. The girl had not slowed down and he had been wondering for the past twenty minutes whether she would seriously hurt herself or not. The potion was not over yet, and he didn't know how much her body could take of this. He was sure that the Granger from a few years back would be fine, but the one in front of him who would likely still have a mild bit of cancer in her, wasn't. She was panting.

Instead of nodding, she handed him his wand and took out her own, struggling to stand up. He watched and never once offered his hand. It was stupid of her to offer him the wand in the first place. He fully intended to drag her back inside.

"Before you rush me back into the castle Malfoy," she began, looking at him, "aren't you curious?"

"I'm bloody tired."

She frowned. "Curious about my secret? The one I told you about that you aren't ready to know yet?"

He rolled his eyes. "As if you would tell me; now walk back in the damned school or I will have no problem placing a silencing spell on you and levitating you back to the room." He inclined his head in that direction, in no mood for more of her games. She would probably pass out any moment anyways.

She shook her head. There were very few reasons he would help her, unless they somehow benefitted him. But she sincerely needed to go see Welsh. After knowing he had been 'absent' from work for so long, she knew immediately what was wrong; it almost had to be that. However, she couldn't go there alone. She assumed he would be watching, waiting for her to journey off by herself before he made his move. No, she couldn't go there alone, and unfortunately that meant she needed Malfoy to come with her. But, he wouldn't do that unless he had a reason to. No matter that she wasn't ready to turn and face her past summer yet; this was the only way she would get anywhere, simply because Malfoy was a stubborn arsehole.

"Malfoy," she sighed, getting off the tree and turning her back, "I'll tell you, if you simply take me to find Welsh."

He smirked. There just had to be a catch. "Oh, I'm sure you will Granger, because you love to tell me things. Come off it; I'm not going another step with you and I _will _drag you back to the castle if you don't turn around."

"You can't tell me what to do Malfoy; it doesn't work like that."

"Oh, but doesn't it? If I remember right, you are still under my control. Keep walking Granger, and I bet I can _demand _you turn and go back to the castle, and you will _have _to."

She grimaced. If he did that, she would really have an issue. Although neither of them had tried that since the deal was struck, she didn't want to try it out just now. Instead, she decided to make a risky choice. "Malfoy?"

He frowned. "Now what?"

She glanced behind her. "If you ever want to know, you'll follow me – I'm sure you can guess where I'm going." Before she could listen to his reply, she apparated away.

Draco cursed. She couldn't be _serious. _She wanted him to follow? Ha! The girl was a nutcase, wandering out on the grounds with barely enough energy to make it and now apparating? Great; she'd probably kill herself without even realizing it. _I bet I'll be blamed for that too._

He crossed his arms. He had given her just a second too long to get away. If he had decided to flick his wand at her and body bind her like he had been thinking, then he wouldn't be standing there alone just inside the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the day. How they had gotten all the way out there without being noticed was beyond him.

Not only was she mental, but she was driving him mad. Throwing her pretty little secret in his face was certainly tempting, and he might've taken the bitch up on her offer had she been in better condition. He did not believe they would get anywhere at this rate. The fact that she had decided to apparate away only made his job harder. Now he had to _find _her.

_But do I want to? Granger did get herself into this mess._

_Yes, but you'll be the one in trouble if you don't do something. You're supposed to be watching the oh-so-sick Gryffindor._

_You're right. _

He cut his thoughts off. Being in that room for so long had done more to him then he originally thought, if he was standing there having a mental conversation with himself. But it had been settled; he would go find Granger, simply because he didn't feel like getting yelled at for 'losing' her.

The problem was, he had no bloody idea where she had gone. Welsh's apartment was a good idea – or did he live in a house? – but the blond had absolutely no idea where that was, and had the feeling she didn't either or Annabelle would never have needed to be contacted. Which left… what?

_You could always start at the hospital. _

He groaned, and decided it was his best choice. If he couldn't find Granger, well, that was her fault for running off.

* * *

><p>"I really have to see him," Hermione said again, frustrated with this nurse.<p>

"I understand Miss Granger, but really, I cannot give away information like that," Annabelle said, looking exceptionally uncomfortable. "And besides, you should definitely be resting, you look like you're about to faint! Where is Mr. Malfoy? Shouldn't he have come with you?"

She frowned. "Well yes, I tried that. But Malfoy had the habit of being an insufferable git."

"Ah I see – Oh, hello Mr. Malfoy," Annabelle said, catching sight of the blond approaching them. Hermione barely glanced over her shoulder to nod at the appearing boy before returning her gaze to the nurse.

"Really," she said, wondering what other excuse she could use. Really, she wasn't the best liar. "I really must see him! It's urgent."

"Oh," she said, immediately reaching over to feel her forehead. "Are you ill dear? You should've called ahead if that's the case-"

"She's only ill in the head," Draco drawled, rolling his eyes. The woman glanced over at him with a strange expression on her face, but didn't say anything. He took that opportunity to look into her eyes. "How have you been, Annabelle?"

She frowned, not even noticing the small presence in her mind. "Fine, Mr. Malfoy. I'm not so sure why you and Miss Granger are here though. Shouldn't you be back at Hogwarts? No one has even signed your release papers Miss Granger," she continued, looking away, but that was fine. He had what he needed.

"I-"

"Exactly," Malfoy broke in, daring to grab her arm. "I've come to retrieve her actually. She wanted to come and find Welsh, but he is _obviously _unavailable." He remembered talking to her not so long ago, and listening to the witch go on about how he had not been in for days. "We'll be going back to the castle now. Good day." He jerked her arm hard enough to hurt, and she glared up at him with hate.

"Malfoy I'm not-"

"Oh shut up Granger," he snapped, wondering if they would run into anyone from the newspaper while they were out. Now that would be both annoying and difficult to explain to the Headmistress. He inclined his head as they reached one of the Floo networks. "We'll go see your bloody healer."

She frowned. "Well, we can't. I don't know-"

He roughly took her hand and cast a spell on his wand, using it like a quill to quickly write an address on her hand. "Just say that; it'll take us to a network near his home."

Her eyes looked up to meet his, and stared in wonder. "How the hell-"

He clicked his tongue. "Stop talking. I don't want to be here as it is, so let's get on with it." He nodded his head once more, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Go on then."

Hermione looked up at him curiously. What was he trying to pull? Besides, this could be a fake place he had made up, and ultimately it would get her lost or killed or something. Then again, he had gone on and on for days about not getting anything out of the deal if something happened to her.

So, she stepped into the Floo network and glared at him as she took some powder.

* * *

><p>"Why couldn't we just use the Floo network connected to his house," she muttered as they walked through a muggle street, receiving strange looks from everyone that passed. Draco on the other hand kept looking in wonder at every car that sped by.<p>

"We're not connected to his Floo; it wouldn't allow us in. You know that Granger."

She nodded, but was feeling the tiredness slipping in. She had been getting rapidly more exhausted since her run from the castle, and wondered if sleeping on Welsh's sofa would be out of the question – if he even had a sofa.

They were walking side by side, and Draco was constantly looking for the buildings name. Granger had asked him twice how he knew where they were going, and twice he had told her to shut up or he would stop walking entirely. Truth be told, he was happy he had finally decided to use this trick on the nurse. Last time he had too much too much to mull over and pushed the idea out of his mind, but now it had come in handy. If only he had used it on Welsh more then once.

_When did the man's thoughts change so rapidly? _

Another block down and he was certain Granger would collapse. Thankfully the name of the building appeared in his vision and he turned sharply to the left, hearing her stumble after him. Hopefully there would be some sort of muggle elevator, because he would not be carrying her up the stairs.

There was, and he quickly pushed a button with the arrow up. He had been to the Ministry enough times to know how a bloody elevator worked, although this one didn't seem nearly as fancy. The doors were boring, and the blinking lights moved surprisingly slow compared to elevators he was used to.

They stepped inside and he hit a button. She was leaning against a wall, eyes dancing open and closed, and he decided she would be no use once they reached the apartment. He would probably look around, find nothing, and be on his way. _What a waste of time. _

The two got off at their floor, and Hermione followed him down the hallway. He stopped outside the address that he had seen in her mind, and noticed a woman nearby. She had dark hair. Looking over at her, he spoke.

"Is this Daniel Welsh's apartment? He told us to meet him up here."

She nodded, looking a bit afraid. "Yes, it is. He's had a few people in there recently. I'm sure he's in."

"Thank you," Hermione replied, nodding to the woman. Her heart was twisted around itself. She looked so very much like her mother. "Are you a neighbor?" She heard Draco knocking on the door and thought that was strange.

"Yes," she said politely. "I'm Mrs. Hirsh." She smiled. "And you are?"

_Definitely a muggle then. _"I'm Hermione, and this is M-Draco," she said, forcing the name to come off her tongue. He glanced back at her with an amused look on his face.

If she caught the strange actions between the two she didn't let on. "Well, it was nice meeting you," she said, opening her door at the same time Welsh's door opened.

"Same to you," Granger said, looking perplexed. _Maybe my assumption was wrong. _Draco only inclined his head before ducking inside. There was no one on the other side. "How-"

"Oh please, Granger, I magically unlocked it. It wouldn't do to have the woman see us let ourselves in." He crinkled his nose. "It smells a bit strange in here."

"Yes it does," she agreed, pinching her nose. It smelled vaguely familiar, but the familiar scent was overpowered by some strong scent she guessed would be a potion gone wrong. "I don't think he's cleaned in a while."

"No." She didn't say anything else about their entrance, or that she had never seen him draw his wand to do so. _Maybe Malfoy has a bit more skill then he let's on. _

She began looking through the apartment, glancing into rooms, Malfoy following a bit behind her, hands in his pockets. The smell grew stronger as they got further in, and he began to worry about what the scent was masking. There was no way the healer would've simply left it smelling like this in here on purpose, was there?

Granger made her way to the back of the apartment, looking into a bathroom and a bedroom, but tensed when she came to the final door. The smell was stronger there, and he automatically covered his mouth and nose for a moment, muttering a spell to put up an invisible ward between him and the stench. _There, that's better._

She on the other hand didn't seem concerned at all with the smell in the air. She was a few steps ahead of him, and her eyes had grown large. Considering he was now at her side instead of behind her because of the abrupt turn, he could see this. "Granger," he said cuttingly, looking at her with hard eyes. "Now what's the matter with you?"

But she didn't respond, and instead rushed forwards, throwing open the bedroom door that hit the wall, before she screamed. He would like to say he only rushed after her because of the strange behavior, not the cry, but wasn't quite sure himself.

The only thing he did when he entered the room was arch an eyebrow, masking his reaction. It wouldn't do him any good to be out of sorts with the overly-emotional woman now sitting on the floor.

What was left of Welsh lay separately around the room. His head was about seven inches from the remains of a body, rotting away with age. The blond didn't even want to put a number on how long the body had been laying around unnoticed; it looked awful. There was dried blood coating the once clean, light muggle carpet and walls, but at least every organ remained inside the rotted corpse.

Granger was on the ground a couple inches from Malfoy muttering unintelligibly about something. Glancing at her, he decided it wouldn't do him any good to have a mental person looking at his father. Walking over to her, he wrapped an arm beneath her chest and hoisted her, up, half dragging her out of the room since her feet refused to function.

Her mind was spinning. It brought back different flashes of memory.

"_Don't hurt them! Please, don't hurt them! They didn't do anything to you!"_

"_But you did, so they can blame you."_

"_Don't hurt them!"_

He vaguely noted the tears soaking the sleeve of his cloak as he threw her on the couch, grabbing her face and forcing her to look at him. "Will you get a bloody grip?" He could almost hear her heart pounding. Unfortunately, she was holding the gaze too long.

"_Stop it," she screamed, covering her face. "Stop! Please, stop!" _

"_Stupid Mudblood," he said, the cool blade running down her spine. "It's your bloody fault you know."_

"_It's your fault!" She rolled away from the blade and made contact with the couch. "It's yours! Not mine, yours!"_

"_But you led me hear dear girl," he said, moving away. She scrambled to her feet, noticing her wand lay on the opposite side of the room. Uselessly, she tried to bring it back to her, but she wasn't skilled enough. "It's your fault that you ran home."_

"_I didn't know you were following!"_

"_You knew someone was following, and that's your-"_

He looked away as she continued to cry, still muttering too low for him to hear. Whatever was going on in her mind was something very private, and he was invading, despite his curiosity. Standing, he ran a hand through his hair. This would obviously have to be reported, but having them report it would look very bad. Not only were they supposed to be in school, but the man was just featured in an article about them, which reflected badly on them. If anyone knew they had reported him, reporters would run wild with obnoxious stories about their united vengeance against the man, resulting in death or something else ridiculous.

He moved away to collect his mind, while hers wept out onto Welsh's expensive couch. Giving her a moment may help her with whatever demented memory she was going through. Besides, he was thinking about the article now.

It had been published yesterday, but that body had definitely been there for at least a week, probably longer. There was no way Welsh had actually reported to the Daily Prophet. Therefore, some sort of imposter had done so, with some sort of motive that would initially benefit them. _But what exactly would one benefit from that?_

Turning, he paced back to Granger and made her look at him through half shut, watery eyes. "Why was it so important we came here today," he demanded, knowing he was probably being louder then necessary.

"… he just wanted t-oo kill I d-didn't know-"

"Granger," he snapped, confused about her babbling but not interested just then in discovering what was going on. "_Why was it so fucking important we came here!_

She shrank away slightly and sat up, looking away from him. "Because I was scared."

He glared. "Scared of what?"

Wringing her hands, she continued, "Scared of who he had killed now."

Immediately, he was gripping her arm tightly, and she glanced up again. "Who? What do you mean now? Tell me! You said I'd get my fucking answers if I took you here, so go ahead, talk!"

"Well," she said, pulling free from him, "I… I thought he m-may have done it again."

"What again," he snapped.

"Killed!"

_Great, we're talking in circles. _He moved away again and gripped his hair. She was in some state of distress, be it over his death or the killer, Draco didn't know. But she was absolutely useless to speak to at the moment, if she was that gone. He supposed he could force the answers out, but thought better of it. That might just throw too much at him at once.

Pacing the room, his mind worked out the details. _If I guess a week and a half ago that this happened, then that would be roughly October 25. So since Granger told 'him' about her recovery, it's been the imposter. But does that mean that it has been the imposter for only that long, or did he pop in beforehand?_

_At least I know her Healer wasn't a complete bastard. It would've been the imposter she had yet to name… _Rubbing his chin, he turned back to look at her, but the girl seemed completely torn up. She had finally gotten to a sitting position, but was pulling at her hair in a dangerous manner that made him wonder if she planned to tear it out.

With a groan, he walked back over to her and reluctantly extended his hand. She looked up at him with confused eyes. "Well, get up. We have to leave this place at some point, the muggle way, or Hirsh next door will become suspicious. It will look bad enough that we were the last people here."

She nodded mutely and took his hand to stand, but dropped it the moment she was upright. He didn't say anything about it, but wandered towards the door, until her grip on his arm stopped him. "What do we do about…" Her voice trailed off and he could see the haunted look there again, not masked this time.

"It's not really our problem Granger; as far as the Ministry knows, we were never here."

"But then he'll get away again," she said, eyes large. "And that can't happen."

He nearly asked who, but decided against it. She had ignored that question enough tonight. "Whatever you are going on about now can wait until we find our way back to the castle. It's not going to do any good out here. Now will you quit crying?"

She shrugged, and they walked to the door, but at the last moment her hand shot out and grabbed his shoulder. Annoyed, he turned to see her shaking her head. "Now-"

Shaking her head quickly, she placed a finger to her lips. In the silence, he heard it too; voices from the hallway. Now, that didn't seem peculiar to him, since it's a hallway, until he heard a familiar one.

_You've got to be kidding. _

Glancing back at her, he inclined his head back towards the kitchen, but she shook hers. What good would it do to hide in an open space? He rolled his eyes and grabbed her arm, dragging her away from the door into the kitchen, where they would be able to clearly see the person enter and exit, so long as they left the same way. Whispering a spell before she could protest, he placed a silencing spell on her and an invisibility cover over them, as the doorknob twisted a bit.

He inclined an eyebrow over what he supposed would be Granger's head, keeping his hand on her arm so he would have some idea where she was.

The door opened and he looked into a face he had not expected to have any place in this twisting game.

* * *

><p><strong>An: **Don't get excited, you don't get to meet the killer yet! That's too easy :D Still, any guesses who that is?


	16. Fight Away All of Your Fears

**a/n: **Because most everyone had the name "guest" now when they review anonymously, I can't really respond to them anymore. Sorry guys :( Keep reviewing anyways though; I appriciate it and it lets me know what you guys think! Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**!

**Fight Away All of Your Fears**

* * *

><p>The pair watched in utter surprise as Annabelle walked purposefully through the door, shutting it with a dull thud. Draco's eyes nearly bulged from his head, because it made absolutely no sense. She seemed to know so little about anything, yet here she was in the home of the dead Healers? He kept his grip firm on her arm- perhaps a little too firmly- to keep her from rushing up. He could feel her trying to pull away to do something, but he wanted to see what Day planned to do first before he removed them from the apartment entirely. There was no reason to stay.<p>

Annabelle pulled a blade out of her pocket, walking towards the slaughtered body. His eyes widened further, not quite sure what he was seeing. Granger had been going on and on about a _'he' _that supposedly killed dear Welsh, but here was Annabelle returning to the scene of the crime, with a _blade_. He didn't think it was suspicious until he saw that.

Granger reached up suddenly and shoved his hand away. _Fantastic, now I have no idea where she went. _Reaching out, his fingers barely brushed her hair; she was moving quietly along the tile floor of the kitchen, apparently planning to _follow _the crazy woman in front of them. He didn't hurry to catch her or dare to cast a spell, because Annabelle was still in front of them and might hear their footsteps. If the woman was crazy enough to kill her boss, then he had no desire to get into a fight with her. Besides, they weren't even supposed to be there!

Reaching out again, he caught a handful of curls and pulled, emitting a low yelp from her. He pulled her flush against his body and clamped a hand over what he assumed was her mouth just as Annabelle spun around at the end of the hall and looked back. He could feel her squirming against him to get away, and wanted nothing more then to shove her into the floor and clean his robes, but resisted. If the girl found one of them it would be terrible. He could feel her lifting her arm up and silently brought the wand into his other hand, thankful no spell had been cast. No doubt that she would try to kill him later for all of this, but at the moment he was focusing on other things.

Hermione kicked his ankle softly as she stepped closer, and the blond obediently took two steps back just as the nurse's hand whipped out to catch thin air. He supposed that would've been Granger's face. The urge to stun Annabelle was strong, but the want to know what exactly she was doing there was stronger. Satisfied that no one appeared to be in there, she turned and walked back down the hall, but not before Hermione caught the gleam of green in her eyes.

Struggling away from Malfoy's suffocating grip, she walked after the girl, knowing he would follow, since that was the direction he had found her heading in before. At least here there was carpet, and it softened the sound of her shoes as they walked. Day did not turn around again, and led her all the way into the office area.

_No, this isn't right. She isn't the killer. _Hermione understood what was going on, but wondered what the girl would do if she tried to take the knife? Thanks to Malfoy, she no longer had a wand and couldn't tell how far behind her he was. _Why does he always have to ruin my plans? _

All she knew was that she could not let Annabelle start any of her… plans. Whatever it was would almost certainly put the blame on her, which had to be what he wanted. If the _killer _for this was caught, he would not be traced from this. But that meant it would take longer for her to feel safe, and she couldn't deal with that. He already ruined her life, so she couldn't let him ruin anyone else's. And it had cost her Healer his life.

_If Malfoy didn't have my wand, I would be able to do this in an instant, but something tells me he hasn't figured out this is a cover up yet. _Inwardly sighing, she moved swiftly and elbowed the girl, shoving her into the floor. She hit it directly next to the body, on the side without blood.

Caught off guard, she took a few seconds to spring back up. Hermione decided Malfoy either did not want to help, or had not followed like she hoped. Stepping to the side a bit, she thankfully missed the angry blade as it sliced through thin air, the girl's eyes wide.

_Wide with a green gleam. And where the hell is Malfoy?_

"Aparecium**," **the girl said, and Hermione cursed as the damn invisibility spell disappeared. No Malfoy appeared however, and she realized he truly hadn't followed.

Apparently she took a moment too long considering that, and Annabelle lashed out at her. Jumping aside, she repositioned the aim- which had been her throat- to her shoulder and hissed as it cut into her skin. This certainly wasn't the sweet nurse from earlier, but the cut wasn't terribly deep.

_Why did I never bother learning muggle self-defense? I had several summers to! _She jumped aside again and ducked, allowing the blade to skim over her head. She used the same fighting technique he did, so at least she could avoid things this time.

Moving to the side once more, she found herself in a corner, her hip digging into the corner of a desk and Annabelle's green, gleaming eyes staring at her. Just lovely.

"Stupefy," said a familiar voice, and she was never happier to see Malfoy reappear in the doorway. Annabelle fell forwards and she squeezed against the wall to avoid being skewered. The moment her frozen body hit the floor brown eyes met silver and she was livid.

"Would it kill you to follow," she snapped, reaching down to pull the blade free before walking over to him. He was glaring.

"Would it kill you to stand in one place," he snapped back, eyes moving between Hermione and Annabelle. "You have a nice cut in your shoulder by the way."

_As if I didn't notice. _Extending her hand, she raised an eyebrow. "My wand then?"

He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "If I remember right Granger, you held onto my wand for quite a while earlier, so I think I will return the favor."

"That's not funny Malfoy," she snapped. "Give me my wand; we need to get out of here."

He inclined his head towards the body of the nurse, slumped against the ground. "Perhaps we should drop her off at the Ministry, or at least Floo someone about her being here, even if it is from our dorm."

Her eyes widened. "No! Malfoy, no one can know she was here."

The boy frowned. "Granger, are you mad? The bitch murdered-"

"No she didn't," Hermione said quickly, eyes darkening. "She was under the Imperious curse."

"I'm sure," he mocked.

"Trust me Malfoy," she said sternly, "it was _not _Annabelle."

He scowled. "Would you like to tell me who then?"

Her eyes moved downwards and she frowned, but did not answer his question. With a scoff, he continued, "So it's not Day, but you won't tell me who you think it is? That just leads me to think its Day."

She shook her head. "No, its not. Believe me, it's really not."

"Granger-"

"We have to get out of here," she continued, looking around in a panic. "We don't want to encounter him here."

His curiosity perked at this. "Someone else is coming? Let's stay then, so _I _can see what it is you are going on about."

Hermione shook her head furiously. "No Malfoy that is a very bad idea. Please, let's leave."

His rough grip was suddenly on her arm, yanking the sleeve of her shirt back to expose the destroyed skin on her forearm. It was the same arm Annabelle hit with the blade, and she hissed as he pulled on it, barely paying the cut any mind at all. "Something tells me Granger," he snapped, dragging her closer to him so he was breathing on her face, "that whoever is coming has something to do with this." His finger jabbed at the scar and jerked her arm again, causing her to hiss louder, biting back the pain. So, maybe it was a bit deeper then she thought.

As though realizing he was causing her pain, he let go abruptly and shoved her wand in her direction, looking away. "Fine. Just heal yourself and let's go."

The sudden change in his mood was surprising, but she didn't argue. Snatching her wand away from him, she moved her gaze away and quickly healed the cut, her arm still in a bit of pain from Malfoy pulling on it. Storing her wand in her own pocket again, she turned to the door. "We should go."

"And leave her," he asked, surprised that she would do such a thing.

She nodded quickly. "We'll alert someone, but we need to get out of here." Gesturing with her head, she turned and left quickly, thankful she had at least stopped Annabelle. The girl had almost certainly been under the spell.

Malfoy was following this time at least, but not before taking the witches wand for good measure. She could not cause herself harm, but hopefully whoever was coming didn't have any plans to hurt her. He decided it would be bad to leave her without protection after all, and set it just under a blanket, visible in her line of vision from the floor. _There, now she still has the means to defend herself without hurting herself, hopefully. _He turned and followed Granger before he over thought it again.

She was nervously fiddling with her hands again as they made their way out. He was fairly certain the strain of doing so much today on her recovering body was finally setting in and she would pass out the moment they returned to the school, if not sooner. That was fine with him though, for he would have to completely disinfect his entire body since he pressed her against him earlier. It had been done of course to keep Annabelle from finding them, no other reason. He would never actually want to _help _her without something in it for him.

"Granger your shirt still has blood on it," he commented as they reached the front door. The tear was also still in tact; obviously she only thought to worry about the bloody cut.

"I'll fix it when we are out of here," she said over her shoulder, refusing to stop moving. If he found them there it would be over. Although Malfoy thought it would look strange for them to wander around with her sleeve covered in blood, he didn't argue; the damn girl seemed to be on a mission.

She quickly moved out of the apartment and down the hall, Malfoy following as he shut the door, his long strides barely allowing him to keep up. Something was worrying the girl that she believed they needed to get out of that building as soon as possible, but he was still curious to see who the person really was. But he couldn't just lose Granger either, since she wasn't yet fully recovered. And besides, it would look terrible if he was the only one that returned to the school. _But hopefully no one knows we left. _

Exiting the building, she looked around frantically in the dark world. Neither had even noticed how late it had gotten until now. It was well past nine o'clock by the looks of things, and that meant it would be harder to sneak back onto the campus grounds. But the girl was looking around wildly as she walked, as though afraid someone would jump out of the darkness and take her.

If they had not traveled there together, he was nearly certain she would consider him to possibly be one of those people. But she was moving quickly down the street, so he was forced to follow. Near the corner she stopped.

"Now what," he snapped, annoyed. They could've turned off at the alley across the street to apparate back to the edge of the grounds, but she had stubbornly refused the idea a few feet back.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Let's go inside that café," she urged, nodding her head in the direction of a place just across the street. "Just for a few minutes."

"Or," he countered in the darkness, "let's go apparate and get the fuck out of this neighborhood."

But she was shaking her head again, and surprised him by reaching out to pull on his arm. "No, let's go over there, just for a few minutes."

"I think not."

Her hand was still pulling on him. "Just a few minutes." He noticed in the dim light of the nearby streetlight, that she was beginning to panic. Her head swiveled around too much, and her eyes her huge.

"We're not going into a damn café," he snapped, ready to drag her into the alley and remove them from the muggle street.

"Fine," she said quickly, letting him go. "I'll go into the café, you can apparate yourself away if you prefer." With that she rushed across the street, narrowly avoiding one of those metal death traps muggles move around in.

He scowled. It would still do him no good to return alone, and he couldn't just stupefy her out in the open and force her to return to school. That would go over very badly indeed. Throwing his head back, he followed her across, wondering why he ever gave the witches wand back.

_Oh, and she still has that bloody shirt on! _

Walking inside, he found Granger sitting in a booth, arms tight around her. The only waitress who seemed to be working at the moment was looking at her shirt with concern, and only glared when he sat across from her. _Great, she must think that's my fault or something._

"Why are we in here Granger," he spat, sinking in his seat. Although her arms loosened a bit from her body, her eyes did not move from their position on the window.

"I'm waiting."

"Yes Granger, I can already see that. But for what?"

She only shook her head in return, eyes still staring outside. He peered out for a moment, saw nothing, and decided to send death glares to the side of her head instead. Around that time, the waitress finally came over.

"Everything alright here," she began, placing two coasters on the table. Hermione glanced over in time to see the woman glare down at Malfoy, and absentmindedly touched the red stained part of her once pale purple shirt.

"Fine," she said kindly, before Malfoy could open his mouth and give the woman some sort of clipped reply. "We will have two waters," she continued, hoping they were either free or would be under the amount of five pounds, since that was the absolute most she had in her pocket. The blond would have nothing to offer, because she doubted he had ever even laid eyes on muggle money.

With a nod, the waitress departed, but not before sending Malfoy one more dirty look. Hermione ignored the woman entirely and turned in time to see him pass under the streetlight they had just left, eyes trained on her. Her stomach dropped and she snatched up Malfoy's hand, trying to pull him out of the booth with her.

"Now what Granger," he drawled, looking over as well, but the man had already disappeared. _Of course he would_, she thought, panicking, _he would only want me to see him, after all. And that just worked out too well for him. _The thoughts of what he had promised to do when he found her again swam in her vision, and she pulled harder on his hand.

"We have to go," she hissed.

"And about four minutes ago you demanded that we just _had _to come in here," he growled, scooting over and forcing her down into the seat. "So sit still and shut up."

"Malfoy, you don't understand! We have to leave now. I saw him under the streetlight!" She was whispering hurriedly, ignoring how close they now were.

"Granger you're running around with your body barely recovered. I have a damn potion at the school that is going to finish killing your cancer, but you must be delusional. I think that happens when you push to far." He glanced her over, not even bothering to consider the panic in her face. "Your body is probably trying to give up for the day, and you're seeing things. So could you possibly sit still? You wanted to come here so fucking bad, so let's at least get our waters."

She pressed her lips into a thin line but said nothing as they waited. Her heart was beating quickly, and all she wanted to do was escape the prison they had themselves in. She had meant to check and see which direction he came from, but never thought he would _see _her. _Perhaps I am just overreacting. It was all the way across the street…_

The waitress came and set the glasses down. Hermione downed hers quickly, while Draco took two small sips. Her glass was nearly empty when she set it back down and stood, hugging herself. "How much for the waters?"

"Those are free."

She nodded then turned back to the blond. She grabbed his hand again. "Come on already Malfoy, we can't be caught here," she hissed.

He scowled and pulled away. "Fine, we will just head off to our _original _destination. We could've already been back in the dorm you know, had you not been so stubborn to stop here, which I _still _don't understand."

Hermione barely nodded as she pulled out some crumbled muggle money that had spent way too long in that pocket, and discarded it onto the table. It may have been too much, but she didn't care. She wanted out before he made a trip to come find them.

Practically sprinting out the door, she tugged Malfoy's hand so that they headed towards the alley from earlier to apparate. He ripped his hand away and followed behind, peering across the street. So who was she avoiding?

They reached the alleyway and she pulled him inside, hoping no one spotted them while driving by and got the wrong idea. She kept her breathing as regular as possible, but had the impending fear in her mind that he would appear at any moment. "Let's go," she said, placing her hand in Malfoy's so they would apparate together.

Half a moment before they disappeared, a hand clamped down on her shoulder and she screamed. She stopped the spell and spun around, Malfoy barely half a step behind as he lit his wand and gripped it higher, in case it was a muggle they were dealing with, so that his wand would look more like a flashlight. It was one of the few objects he was actually familiar with.

"What the fuck Theo," Draco asked, surprised by who was behind them. This couldn't be who Granger had been running from… right?

"Draco," he said coldly in the dim light before turning his attention back to the girl. She didn't look afraid of him, but hesitant to be close. "Granger, I thought you were sick."

"I am," she snapped before Malfoy could. The blond only raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, drawing the wand out to its handle again. "But we had to come and visit my Healer."

The boy's eyes flashed at this, but only for a moment. Draco couldn't decide if it was real or if it was a trick of the light, but watched as Nott took a step closer to her and used his hands to push her hair back. "You don't look very sick."

She pushed on his chest, forcing him to take a step back, but only one. The blond noted that her shoulders were sagging and her push was less then efficient; he decided she would pass out in a few minutes, and it would probably be best to have it happen in the dormitory. There was no way he planned on carrying her _again. _

"I'm getting better," she said, taking a step back herself. "But we have to be getting back to school."

Nott nodded, a twisted smile playing on his lips. "Of course; it is strange though that McGonagall allowed you to stay out until nearly midnight."

_It's almost midnight? Well, I guess that does make it later then nine, but I didn't realize how late it actually was. _Draco watched her take a second step back at his malicious smile, so they were side by side again. She may not seem scared exactly, but she was obviously worried.

"It was a special circumstance Theo," Draco drawled, rolling his eyes, "nothing that really concerns you. We'll just be on our way."

"I'll come with," Nott said, stepping between the two. "I need to get back to Hogwarts as well."

Immediately, the situation seemed stranger. Not only had he purposefully stepped between them, but he adjusted his stance and forced Granger to step against a fence, his back to her. It was odd enough to find Theo out here of all places, but the situation had become increasingly uncomfortable.

He gave Nott a short shove, so he had to take a step back, but the boy's eyes were suddenly dark. "I don't think so Nott. You got here all by yourself, I'm certain you can get yourself out." Draco held the dark gaze.

"Worried I will get in the way Malfoy," he taunted, looking over at Hermione as he spoke. "I'm sure Granger doesn't mind me tagging along." He reached out an arm and locked his hand around her wrist, but she jabbed him hard with her wand and made him let go. She had enough conversations with _him _to know Theo was no good. And besides that, she had enough encounters with the Slytherin to know the truth herself.

"We have Head business to deal with," she said, reaching over to grasp Draco's forearm. Neither really knew why they planned to return to the outskirts of school together, just that it had been an unspoken agreement. "You should head back as well."

"I was planning to, with you," he said, stepping towards her a moment too late. Hermione was through listening to him and apparated away, thankful that she had decided to bring Draco along. It would be bad to leave him with Theo; no doubt the two would not talk pleasantly together.

Besides, she needed him escorting her around, silly as it sounded. He would not get too close with Draco close at hand, because the two were family, and he would not want to end the Malfoy line, even if he was only related through his wife.

They appeared in the same place they had departed from, and Draco shook her off his arm. She slumped against a tree and slid to the ground, head spinning. Maybe Malfoy did know something; she was definitely tired, just as he had said she would be. He knew more about the potions effects on someone then she did, after all.

"I see you're finally exhausted Granger," he said, lighting is hand so he could see her. "But, you are the one who drug us numerous places, so you can collapse once we get to the dorm room. Now get up."

She glared, her body feeling spent. She couldn't wait until the last dose of the potion was given to her, and she could act like a person again. Once that was done, she would have to screw up some of her famous courage and start dealing with the problem, _again_.

"Wait a moment Malfoy," she spat, body drained. "I'm exhausted."

"Yes, that happens when you run around doing _everything _while your body is trying to recover. You'll be fine, now get up already." He peered around and noticed another body, barely reflected by the dim moonlight that night, walking towards the castle. He guessed this had to be Theo, and hoped a prefect caught him out of bed. Of course, none of the prefects had the authority to scold Hermione or Draco, so they would be safe getting back in so long as no professor's spotted them.

The brunette stood and began to follow him across the open space, lagging behind him a good deal. He rolled his eyes as they slipped up the staircase again. About halfway up she began coughing and leaned over the edge, spitting. He crinkled up his nose in disgust, until her knees buckled and she fell over the edge. His hand spot out a slit second too late and her head slammed into the wall, but at least she didn't keep going right into the unforgiving ground. Hauling her back over the edge, he practically screamed at her.

"What the fuck are you doing? Are you trying to get yourself killed?" He hauled her up the rest of the stairs; hands gripping her recently cut shoulder in an unforgiving manner. Once they were safely inside the hall he turned and shook her again. "Well?"

She pushed him off and slumped against the castle wall, rubbing her head. There were dots in her vision that she assumed came from her near death experience- and ending up upside down at one point in the fall- and she blinked trying to get them to leave. "I didn't try to kill myself Malfoy."

"What then," he snapped, relighting his wand that he had stored away earlier. As soon as he did, he wished he hadn't.

She had blood on her mouth, and dripping down her chin. There was a rather large bruise on her forehead from hitting the wall, and a slight bruise from where he had gripped her too hard while trying to pull her up. She looked like hell, and part of it was his fault. Without meaning to, he cringed. He didn't exactly take pleasure in harming women, even Mudblood women.

_-choking up blood_

_-collapsing when walking_

Part of the side effects to his potion passed through his mind. She hadn't been trying to kill herself, but had started having reactions to being out so long, and her body must have rebelled with the multiple symptoms at once, or at least he thought so. The book never specified that is was natural to have more then one reaction at once, right?

He flicked his wand and cleaned the blood from her face, waiting to see if she would cough again. Letting out a loud sigh, he extended his hand to her surprised face. She waited a moment before gripping the pale hand and allowing him to pull her up.

"You're having some side effects to the potion," he said as they continued down the hall. "You should probably sleep when we get back to the dorm, or they will just continue to get worse."

She nodded absentmindedly, rubbing her sore head. The spots were disappearing but it still hurt. They continued down the hall in silence, until they reached the portrait and she opened it for them. Stepping into the common room, she wanted to do nothing more then collapse on the nearest couch, but decided the couple extra feet to her comfortable bed would be better in the end.

"Where do you think you're going Granger," Malfoy snapped from just behind her, giving her a shove onto the sofa. "You owe me some explanations, remember?"

"Malfoy," she said tiredly, glancing at the clock on their wall. It was nearly half after twelve; it was finally November seventh. "I'm too tired for this. Can't we talk in the morning?"

He chuckled darkly. "Hardly; every time that you get the chance so far, you weasel your way out of telling me shit." He sat on the table directly in front of her, eyes leveled with hers. "You're not getting out that easy this time Granger. I could give a fuck less if you are tired; I spent most of yesterday chasing you around all over, and then I had to run into my housemate- which, by the way, will need to be taken care of in case he decides to try and be coy by telling the old bat."

"Malfoy-"

"So you can cut the shit now about being tired Granger and deal. Start talking; I'm certain you have lots to tell me." He placed his hands behind him on the table and leaned back, face set in a permanent scowl as he waited expectantly.

"I don't owe you anything," she said, fighting back the emotion in her voice. She couldn't stand to go into it now; besides, she had too much to consider about the things they had encountered that night.

_You do owe him answers someday though. He's more involved then he realizes. _She shook the thought away as he began speaking again.

"Bullshit Granger. If I wasn't involved before, I am now, and you only have yourself to blame for that. You brought me with today- and you asked me to." He leaned forwards again and got in her face, hot breath tickling her nose. "So I will expect your answers."

"Not tonight Malfoy," she tried, turning her head to the side. He was a bit too close, even for him. Normally, he wouldn't dare get so close to her- for fear of breathing the same bloody air as her- but he had gotten close to her more then once tonight. He had even put his hands on her arms, and hugged her to him. The exchange was bizarre; he should've been disgusted with the idea just like he was the first time he helped her back in the corridor last month. Instead, he hadn't even seemed to notice.

"Yes tonight Granger."

She shook her head. "Tomorrow-later; I'm too tired for this. You said so yourself that I need to rest. Tomorrow I promise I'll tell you something."

He didn't like the sound of that one bit, but figured she would fall asleep while talking to him if he continued. Grumbling, he nodded curtly and headed for his bedroom, leaving her on the couch.

"I expect an answer early tomorrow then Granger." He didn't wait for a response, but shut his bedroom door.

* * *

><p><em>Infuriating girl. <em>He was scribbling a note to the Ministry, one which he would owl anonymously by a school owl, saying that Healer Welsh may just need to be checked on. He was using a spell to make his quill move on its on, so that the handwriting had no identification whatsoever. Teacher's forbid this spell on schoolwork.

He would go down and toss it to an owl later, but for now he was dangerously tired. Yet, his mind wouldn't sit still. It was too busy thinking about everything that happened since he chased Granger from the castle- which he decided had not been his best idea after all. Perhaps if he stayed he could've had a calm day.

_Or a dead roommate, one of the other. _He figured Granger would've died in multiple ways that day, and he would probably have gotten into at least one dangerous fight. The girl may have been killed trying to duel Day while still recovering, or taken someplace terrible by his housemate, Theo. Else, the strange man she had seemingly been trying to avoid by entering that café may have taken her away.

_Perhaps he carved the word into her arm? But who would have a motive to do that? _

As for the blond himself, he would probably have ended up dueling Theo in that muggle alleyway had he become anymore irritating. He was done dealing with idiots bothering Granger, because then the problem always seemed to come back to him. Why was that, anyways? It's not like he had any real ties to the Gryffindor, except the cure he was giving her and of course, the deal.

So why did he seem involved with all her problems? He hated all the extra shit he had been dealing with lately, and hoped it would stop soon.

_Well, that's not going to happen now that you're practically forcing Granger to tell you her big secret. _He scowled and stood, needing to think, again.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Hermione found herself up around seven. <em>Well, I guess it's 'this' morning, since I could not fall asleep before one. <em>Instead of standing and heading to the bathroom, she rolled and stared at the ceiling, mind slowly beginning to work again.

Annabelle had been at Welsh's last night, and that made absolutely no sense to her. As far as she knew, he had never gone to attacking her as well.

_Unless of course he was using her as a cover-up. People will question her, and attention would be removed from him for a short bit until they discover- if they discover- that she was being controlled. But, they should consider him anyways, since Welsh had ties to me. Oh Merlin, what are they going to ask me now? _She shuddered, thinking about the questions she had been asked by Auror's the first night they found her, chained in the basement of her home. Shaking the memory away, her thoughts moved on.

Seeing Nott out there as well was not just convenient, it was creepy. After seeing him pass beneath the streetlight, she could almost be positive that he had been returning to see if Annabelle's task- whatever exactly that was supposed to be- was complete. That's when she had known it was time to go; because he knew she would not stop trying to get him arrested. He more than deserved it. But Nott had been out there as well, and that made her think that perhaps the two were working together?

_But what good would that do? The more people he involves, the more people he is likely to kill. He killed that other man… what was his name? Oh, I don't remember! But he killed him when he was done, and I'm certain Nott will die too, if that's the case. _

_He also wanted me to get away from Malfoy, which is something he would want too…_

She sighed, not sure what to think about that development. But, she had a while to think about it before she would be well enough to go back. If her last dose came on the 11th, then she had less then a week before she would be able to. That should work out just fine.

Then, there was Malfoy and his ever present questions. She had told him she would tell him some things, but she regretted that choice. She was not ready to face her nightmares yet, but he would continue to push until she did. Which meant, unless she wanted to be annoyed by the prick continually, she would have to tell him _something_, but not the main thing.

_Yes, I can start with little things and work up to it… if I ever do. _

Had her friends not become so dramatic an abandoned her recently, she may have confided in Harry or Ginny about her problems, but she could not. And despite that, they were not really involved. It was completely her problem- with Malfoy unfortunately- and she knew they would pity her the moment she started talking, else jump up and declare that they would get back at him for her.

But that wouldn't help her. She needed to confront him someday, and she couldn't do that if Harry, Ron and Neville ran off to deal with it themselves. At least Malfoy would have snarky comments and dry humor to add to her pain, and she decided she preferred that to the pitiful looks she would receive elsewhere.

Nothing really sounded that appealing. Reaching under her pillow, she withdrew her red bandana and clutched it to her chest.

"Granger," came the irritating drawl of Malfoy from the other side of the door. "Come out already, I know you're up. You mumble to yourself sometimes and I overheard. You still owe me some answers."

She wanted to throw the table lamp at the door. He never quit did he? The bloke complained about early mornings, yet there he was, just outside her door, demanding she get up and tell him things that made her heart clench.

She slammed her eyes shut. If she wanted some piece, she would have to satisfy his annoying demands for the time being, but to hell with it if he thought he could boss her around. Last night was a complete exception; she was drained and tired, having hit her head on a nice stone wall while choking up blood. But now it was a new day and she had to start someplace.

_Unfortunately, someplace seems to be Malfoy._ Standing, she threw her hair up in a ponytail and changed clothes from the night before. Clad in muggle jeans and a comfortable shirt, she tied the bandana in her hair.

_For courage_, her mother had once told her, years ago. Now she would actually use it for its intended purpose.

Rubbing her head where a headache was developing, she called out the door as Malfoy pounded on it, "I'll be out in a moment Malfoy if you stop trying to murder my door." Silence followed.

She gave herself a tight smile in the mirror, the same thought in her head again. _I have to start someplace…_

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><p>Malfoy slumped on the couch, waiting for the bushy-haired girl, He hoped a moment would be quick, because he was in a terrible mood.<p>

The note that had appeared outside his window last night, owl waiting for him, had caused him to look over his room twice for some sort of hidden eye. He had nearly gone to inspect Granger's, but decided he didn't care.

He would be bothering Granger with the note, because it was definitely meant for the both of them. Opening the crumbled parchment, he read the note again.

_Did you enjoy my surprise?_

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><p><strong>An: **What do you guys think Draco will get to learn? Let me know in your review what you think of the note too!


	17. I Held Your Hand Through

**A/n:**Hope you like it! We're getting back into other characters again that have been absent the last few chapters :) Hope you like it! Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**!

I have a job now, so expect updates to be no sooner then a week, give or take a day or two. Sorry! But, life got in the way.

Thanks to all of you anonymous reviewers!

So I made a banner for this story, it's on my facebook page if you want to check it out! Just favorite me and you can check that out as well as the one for "Immortal Punishment". They aren't the best, so I may remake them :) My facebook link is up on my profile for anyone interested!

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><p><strong>I Held Your Hand Through<strong>

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><p>He watched her walk out of her room, that red bandana tied into her hair. The note was crumbled in his fist again, tightly clasped against his leg. Oh, they had lots to discuss. The girl took the seat beside him on the couch, instead of the armchair as he had thought she would. Raising an eyebrow, he suppressed the urge to say something about the paper in his hand, and instead waited for her to start.<p>

A moment passed before she spoke, "Malfoy."

"Granger?"

And that was all. She turned so her back lay against the couch cushions as well, and closed her eyes. He rolled his own, wondering what kind of bullshit she was now attempting to pull on him. The hand not holding the note began drumming against the side of the couch, wondering if perhaps her secrets were just lies. It would make sense, right? She had been holding off answering anything for a while.

He shot his hand out and dropped the note on her lap, ignoring whatever reaction she had. He kept his face forwards, inwardly wondering if he could force her to tell him things because of his control over her. A gasp brought him out of his thoughts, and he raised an eyebrow as she shoved the note onto the table.

"Where did you get that," she breathed, eyes large.

He scoffed. "It appeared at my window this morning, from a bloody bird that apparently got lost. I think it should have been delivered to _you._" He sneered as he spoke the last word. "You are the one this entire problem is rotating around, so it was destined to end up your burden Granger."

Hermione turned and looked at him, lip quivering. "But it was delivered to your window," she whispered, standing up as she nervously toyed with her hands. "And it was sent just this morning…"

"We've already established all of this," he snapped, watching the brunette pace. She looked very worried indeed, and it took him a moment to even register she was muttering at all. Frowning, he listened closely to see if he could make out what she was saying, for he had rarely ever seen the girl so ruffled. She was pale again, just like the majority of yesterday, and he wondered what could possibly be bothering her.

After a moment, she turned to him. "This is bad Malfoy; I wasn't sure before if it had been Welsh or… him here the last few visits, but I should've remembered how long Welsh had been dead…" she looked off in thought. "He knows you've seen it too."

Now the blond was thoroughly confused. "What are you going on about?"

She came and sat back down, one hand held near her face, as though she planned to make wild gestures. "He knows you know it was an imposter," she said, holding his gaze. The intensity in her eyes made his stomach flip; she was acting too serious, even for the situation. Or at least, in Draco's opinion she was being too serious. "He's going to start keeping an eye on you as well," she continued, eyes clouding with worry again. "This is bad."

"You're speaking in circles Granger," he drawled, crossing his arms. "If you are going to mutter about this _'he' _and imposters and all that other nonsense, then perhaps you should explain what you are going on about first; you are out here to give me my answers after all."

_Even when I'm being serious, he has to be a complete git. _"I'm not trying to ignore your bloody _demand _for answers Malfoy, but I'm concerned about how this changes things." She was toying with her fingers again.

"Well, tell me how things used to be and then we'll figure that bit out."

The Gryffindor looked over at him in shock. He was being… sensible? And more importantly, he was offering to be of some use, without those lovely stings attached? _He's only offering to help because he is certain this involves him now, which it has, but for longer than he knows. _"I'm not about to spill all of my secrets to you Malfoy."

He chuckled. "Well of course not! You're going to rush off to Potter and Weasley, right?" The pang in her chest was evident on her face as he spoke, and sneering he continued on, "Oh, that's right, you don't have any pathetic friends to speak about this to! Well, lucky for you Granger, I'm in a listening mood right now, so I'll be happy to offer my services, if you give me some bloody answers in return."

The girl's eyes darkened. "Piss off Malfoy," she snapped, standing from the couch. If he wanted to be an arsehole then she owed him nothing; fuck, she didn't really owe him anything before.

A strong grip brought her back down, like usual. "Oh no Granger; we did this yesterday. I couldn't give a fuck less if its private, if it's a secret, if it's the worst thing that's ever happened to you. You owe me some answers, and I'm losing my patience waiting."

_You don't have a patient bone in your body Malfoy. _"Don't push me Malfoy; you have no idea what you would be getting yourself into."

"I think we have gone over this enough times," he growled, patience gone. "You always tell me the same thing, so I think I have had enough warnings by now Granger. So go on then, spit it out so we can go about the rest of our day already." _And then discuss that bleeding note over there- the one that's caused your irritating outburst._

_If only things were that easy Malfoy. _"Honestly Malfoy, you _don't _understand what you are getting yourself into."

"Well enlighten me Granger," he snapped, standing. He needed to move. "You have already involved me by getting me locked in this fucking room with you," he growled, reaching for the nearest item and throwing it into the wall. He couldn't care less about his composure just then. "By alerting me of your perverse Healer who hit you." Another item hit the wall, and Hermione settled herself deeper into the couch cushion, perfectly content with watching Malfoy's tantrum if it delayed answers. "For allowing me to find out that there was an imposter Healer." Smash. "For taking me to that fucking apartment with you." He took his hand and shoved the multiple books and papers on the living room table directly onto the floor. "For getting me into that situation in that apartment." He picked up a pillow and threw it. "For dragging me all over yesterday! For making me sit in that café so you could drag me out when whoever _he _is passed by outside! For getting me into that situation with Nott in the hallway; that is going to be _my _job to fix and we both know it!"

He had stopped throwing things, and fell back onto the sofa. "But most of all Granger," he finished, voice low and eyes glaring straight into hers, "for getting in my way and starting all of this."

The room grew silent as the last bit of Draco's anger burned off. Hermione sat with her hands clasped, fingernails digging into her skin. She was chewing her lip as she thought, _How did I ever allow Malfoy of all people to become so involved. He's right, I owe him answers, but I fear he won't like the whole truth. _

She glanced at him, and realized he was still staring at her. _I owe him something… but what?_

_I could always start at the beginning-_

Her thoughts stopped there, and she slammed her eyes shut. No, definitely not from the very beginning, because it was terrifying to look back on; it was all her fault really, everything that happened, but it started there, with that single act.

Besides, Malfoy would never understand what it all entailed without a full story, and she was not ready to relive her summer. A sharp jab interrupted her thoughts, and she opened her eyes to see that Malfoy had used his wand to poke her, just to get her attention.

She was quiet for a moment. "Not so long ago I would've been wailing on the floor had you done that."

He shrugged. "If I jab you hard enough I can probably get the same result."

Instead of replying, she thinned her lips. _What to tell him?_

_He doesn't know everything, and he won't unless you tell him; take it one step at a time. _Yes, just one step at a time.

"I'm not telling you everything today Malfoy, but maybe someday if it comes to it." He opened his mouth to argue but she continued talking right over him. "I'll start telling by you about my summer today, and someday I may build a tale long enough for you to understand. I won't say what order this happened in, because when I'm ready I will explain it all to you, if you are still around."

He frowned. What did all of that mean? "What do you mean if I'm still around Granger? It's not like I can get away from this place- and for the record, I am not your diary so don't start feeding me your little sob story; I don't need it."

Her face remained expressionless. "It doesn't matter if you _need_ it Malfoy, you will have to find out."

The blond scowled. "You're incorrect Granger; I'm obnoxiously curious and I demand answers, but I don't exactly _need _them."

She smiled sadly. "You will."

Draco didn't know what to make of that, but didn't say anything; he hoped she would stop setting things up and just start talking.

"Did you ever meet a woman named Martha Evans?"

He frowned deeper. "What are you going on about Granger?"

"I guess you wouldn't have," she said, taking the puzzled look on his face as a no. "She was very kind Malfoy, one of the sweetest people I ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"Good for you," he grumbled, not sure what she was going on about anymore.

"She had a child," Hermione continued, looking off at some memory in her mind, "he had a head of dark brown hair- a bit like mine- that fell into his eyes all the time. He took after his mother really, but had his… father's gangly body. He was four the last time I saw him."

_Great, now she is going to tell me some sappy story about a little boy and his mother that I could find in a book. _

"He's related to you," she continued, seemingly ignoring the startled look on his face. "Well, he was, before he died. Not his mother though, because you two would be distant family through his father."

"What the bloody fuck are you talking about," he snapped, deciding the girl was sleep deprived.

She glanced at him. "Malfoy, I warned you it would make no sense, but you have to let the story take its course."

_I would rather have you spit out something useful. _Instead, he grumbled and settled further into the couch, wondering where on earth this story would go now.

"He and his mother died last summer," she continued, her voice breaking here. "And his father became angry- which is strange, since he was never a part of the boy's life." She was twiddling her thumbs. "His father was a terrible man Malfoy, and he did terrible things to the people responsible for Martha and Andrew's deaths." She gulped.

_Murder? That doesn't sound like Granger, presuming that Granger is saying she was one of the people responsible for those two deaths because of… whatever happened them to piss of the mystery man. _He cocked his head to the side lightly as she wrapped her arms around herself, seemingly reliving some awful memory.

_Now how does all of this fit together? And why am I not ready to know everything? Granger seems to be quite skilled at leaving me with more questions then answers. _

"So who was the father- that _apparently _draws me into this mess?" _I think? _

She shook her head. "Not yet Malfoy," she grumbled, standing. "We aren't to that part of the story."

"Fuck we aren't," he snapped, grabbing her wrist. She locked eyes with him, and he could see the pain there, foggy through tears. "Who is it," he asked again, trying to ignore the look on her face.

She yanked her arm to pull free, but his grip tightened painfully, stopping any escape. It threw another memory in her face, as she glared down at the blond.

"You're a bastard," she snapped, drawing a startled look to his face with her sudden hostility. "You don't understand what happened to me, how hard it is, yet your ego forces you to push past peoples' comfort zones and get whatever you want out of them! Well, not this time Malfoy, because I warned you before this would happen, so you can deal!"

He dropped her arm, face void. "Fine Granger, I'll shut up for now. But _you _be warned; I am a persistent person, and I will get the answers I want." He stood and shoved past her, finished with their conversation if that was all she was willing to reveal- which was _nothing _useful to him.

Oh well, he needed to think things over anyways.

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><p>It was well past eleven when Minerva McGonagall saw a school owl flying up to her window. Opening the window, she allowed the bird in. The raven beauty deposited a letter on her desk and flew out almost instantly after, another letter held fast in its beak. <em>Strange. <em>

She had seen the article on Draco and Hermione, and feared what kind of situation that would put the two in now that they had so much attention. The paper was still open to that page on her desk, and she could only imagine the gossip circulating around school after seeing that. So far, she had not heard anything, but she no longer taught classes either.

Sitting down, she found the letter to be unmarked. With a frown crossing her face, the Headmistress opened the letter, wondering just what was going on. Inside, she found a cliché letter, done in a script only created by one's wand, and the letter without a signature. Well, that would make it difficult to discover who it was from. She began reading;

_It is without pleasure that I alert you, Headmistress of Hogwarts, that the death of a common visitor to the castle has been discovered by two students within the vicinity. The body was not found on school grounds, but I assure you that you will be hearing of it soon._

The letter lacked both an introduction and a closure. She flipped the parchment over, to see if there was anything else, but found her letter fruitless. The very context of the letter was concerning, and she found herself puzzling over the topic for only a brief moment.

_Oh Merlin, he must've struck again! The murders lately have all been his fault, even if the newspapers are strictly prohibited to report who. The Ministry must find this runaway soon, before he gets too close to Miss Granger._ She was nearly certain that had to be what it was about, for the school had been on high alert since the letter about her reposition this summer had come through, the poor girl.

Her mind was spinning. The letter spoke of a death she would know of soon… which led her to believe the killer was Miss Granger's personal stalker. It was a miracle the girl survived that summer at all.

So, it would probably be Hermione who sent the letter, correct? She bit her lip, thinking that perhaps wasn't right. _I will think about it a bit more before bothering the Ministry- and besides, I should go visit those two today anyway and make sure things are going alright._

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><p>Malfoy's room was warm as he sat staring at the second piece of parchment. The letter from his mother had been strictly ignored for the last few days; he was not eager to respond to the angry woman, but assumed he should. He didn't need the letter to still be there, his mother's angry voice and long rant were embedded into his skull; all he had to do was think about it and the letter came to mind clearly.<p>

_Draco~_

_What have you done? I've seen the paper dear, and let me tell you, I am severely disappointed! Miss Granger, of all people? Your father was horrified! This is the only thing I have found that has caught his attention in months son, and all he could say was "He's helping the Mudblood?" How could you do this? I warned you, and yet you've embarked on this dangerous road? Your father may actually have something to say to you when you return for the holidays! If this is how I must snap my husband from his own mind, then I will not be grateful. This is dangerous, and will get us all the wrong publicity._

_I'm sure Hermione Granger is a nice enough girl, but the families will talk, and they will come to a conclusion quickly enough! What are you having the poor girl do? If you mistreat her I will have some very rude things to say to you when you come home. Really Draco! I cannot believe you went through with this._

_Is the girl alright? How are the side effects? I looked in our library for the book when I saw this, and low and behold, the book is not here. You must have it then – but of course you do! How else would you have known the potion, the spell… oh, how did you even get those ingredients? You cannot find those anywhere near the school!_

_I am disappointed in you. This is just going to make life hard for the both of you, rest assured. I have half a mind to get in contact with that Headmistress of yours, to make sure nothing is done to either of you in this deal, but I can't decide if it's a good idea. Trust me Draco, if I decide to go through with it you will know quickly!_

_As for Miss Parkinson, I have already talked to her… mother, and she has informed me that her daughter already has a date for our Ball. You must find a woman to escort son – and don't think about that Granger girl! Every Pureblood there would eat her alive! Don't you dare put that girl through it! Not only that, but then every rumor these people are going to spread about you and her would be true, and that simply can't happen!_

_Find a date for the Ball Draco, and make sure Miss Granger's deal is finished soon. There should be no connections! You have made such a mistake son, and you can't even fully see it yet. Please, do not drag this out!_

_~Mother_

Picking up a quill, he began to scrawl out his own letter.

_Mother~ _

_Publicity? Mother, I think we already have plenty of bad publicity. Many Purebloods know father is out of his mind, and that we were sued multiple times- even if it did not affect us. Even if I had not administered anything, newspapers would've made this story a bloody mess because I have been locked away in this damn school dorm for weeks! It's unhealthy really. Either way mother, the public would frown upon us, so you may stop blaming me now. _

_Father is mentally insane, and I couldn't care less what he has to say to me. He hardly comprehends what he is saying anymore, so why should I give it any thought? Nothing goes on in that head of his anymore that makes sense. If father decides to scream at me, I am just as capable of screaming back. That man should be at St. Mungo's like the Healer prescribed, not waiting for me at home for Christmas. He is an utter danger to you and anyone in that house, including himself. If you would like to scare me, try something else._

_Listen to your hypocritical-self mother! You deem me a horrible person for saving Granger from death, but then you turn around and talk about being disappointed in me. You're disappointed in me for doing the right thing, or for following through with the deal and taking what is owed to me? Perhaps you should specify mother, although I am not certain if I really give a damn._

_Since it's so bloody important to you- Granger is fine, side affects in place as they should be. It's not like they just get ignored after all. Of course I have the bloody book- else I would think those side affects were from me messing up the spell! I've had the book with me for the last four years I have come to this school! Usually, I leave it be in the bottom of my trunk, but father used to have me bring it so Death Eater's who came to our Mansion could not find it. Now, I bring it so he will not destroy it. Face it mother- he doesn't care anymore who or what he hurts, and you should remove that man from your house, as I stated earlier to you. _

_I can take care of myself mother. If anyone needs help its Granger and that will only be because her friends are pricks that turn their backs without a second glance and because the potion only does so much of the job; she has to work on strengthening herself as well. Have you even read the book? It is your family cure after all! I don't even recall what father's is anymore. There is no need to get that old bat involved- we will be fine. Trust me on that- if you can trust me at all._

_You worry far too much mother about what the people around us think. I will not be attending the Ball because I have an important house-guest coming with me for the holidays, who may or may not see father, depending on whether or not you have sent him away yet. No, I will not use my guest as a date, because you would never be able to stand that. It would mortify you mother, because you would have to deal with some damn rumors! _

_Mother, Granger is now my problem to deal with because I went through with this, and that means I will also have to watch her. Your Pureblood friends won't get a chance to eat her alive, because then they would have to deal with me. There are enough complications already; I do not need you adding any other issues to everything! So please mother- shut up about everyone else's opinions because I couldn't care less. _

_I already know who Pansy's date is mother- if my guess is correct- and trust me, he will be far happier!_

_Our deal is not finished until after the holidays mother, so accept it. Unless you want a Mudblood at your Ball, you will not make me go._

_~Draco _

_Oh, but mother, I do have one last question; have you ever heard of Martha and Andrew Evans?_

He seethed as he finished the letter. There were multiple things in that letter that made him wish to say far worse things to his mother- but he restrained. Of his two parents, he could nearly tolerate her. There were times though- like this- when her social status seemed to blind her of all other issues in a situation and she could only focus on how things reflected on her. He had enough problems though, and could not mind his mother's anymore. She was contradicting everything she said in her own letter, and he did not have the patience to write a calm response. She was heated in hers, so why couldn't he be as well. Reaching over, he pet his owl for only a moment, before handing it the letter and saying to take it to mother. He watched the bird go.

He had sent out two other letters that morning; one was the letter to the Ministry he had written the night before, and the other to McGonagall. He hoped they were sufficient enough. Now, he had only to confront Nott about the other night and discover why he had been out there, really. It was too coincidental to be an accident, and the fact that he had demanded to come along back with them was strange.

Then again, all of yesterday had been strange. There were still too many things happening, and with Granger throwing riddles at him now he was certain his head would implode. He ran his fingers over his face, deciding he needed some air. Since it was a Wednesday, he should be able to wander the hallways for a few minutes undisturbed; everyone would be in class at this time, and Granger could certainly handle herself for a few minutes. She was no longer on her death bed, after all.

Entering the corridors, he took note of how nice it was to simply begin to wander. His life had become twisted in with the Mudblood's, and he had been too focused on so many things lately that he almost always had a headache. A bit of aimless wandering would hopefully clear his head.

The corridors were cool in the November weather, and the chill jumpstarted his nerves; he had been very careful recently, ever since Nott started acting peculiar. Until things were resolved he figured he would continue to be too mindful of his surroundings, and not really relax into the quiet of his mind- well, the disaster of his mind, at the moment.

He wandered for a few minutes, turning the same things over in his mind again. Where did the names Martha and Andrew come from? He had never noticed them in any of his family's records, nor had he ever met them- although Granger had commented they would be distant family, so perhaps they were not worth documenting? _How did Granger even figure out things about my family before me- presuming she is not making this entire thing up. I've never known the Mudblood to lie about something so serious, but it is possible that none of this is real. After all-_

His thoughts cut off as he heard hurried footsteps behind him, and the blond whipped his head around to see Pansy jogging towards him, looking a bit ruffled. She stopped beside him, eyes jumping around.

"I thought you were locked in that room," she said, placing her hands on her hips as she continued to look from place to place.

He raised an eyebrow, having rarely seen the Slytherin Queen so jumpy, but pushed his questions from his mind. "I needed to get out for a bit. Granger's nearly done with her potion doses, and I'm certain she can survive without my assistance for a few minutes."

Pansy gave him an unconvinced look, but didn't comment. "Have you seen Blaise?"

"Problem," he asked, leaning against the cold stone wall.

She scoffed. "Hardly, but he requested I at least alert him if Nott is being a bother."

_Theo is bothering her too? _"And what has Nott done?"

The raven-haired girl rolled her eyes. "Nothing really- just being a bother. I got back at him though." She tapped her wand against her leg, an evil grin pulling at her lips.

Draco smirked. "That sounds like you Pansy."

"Of course," she replied, before dropping the grin entirely. "So what about you? Have you let up on keeping her as a slave yet?"

"Pansy-"

"I'm serious Draco," she cut in, shaking her head, "being a slave is degrading. Whatever you think the girl is going to help you with isn't worth it. It wears on people- trust me."

The blond clicked his tongue. "I trust you Pansy- but I'm not letting up. I'm not doing anything terrible to her and you know that. It's simple little things, really."

She rolled her eyes. "We'll see if they really are simple things Draco," she replied, pocketing her wand. "Blaise wanted to discuss something with you; should I tell him to come up later?"

_What could he possibly have to discuss with me? We haven't spoken in a while, so I wonder what this could be about. "_Sure, I suppose I should be heading back anyways."

Pansy nodded, and he turned to go, but her hand on his arm stopped the blond from proceeding. "And Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"Be nice to her," the Slytherin said, before dropping his arm and departing. He watched her leave, eyes trained on her body until the girl rounded a corner. She was acting odd.

_Maybe Blaise will know why._

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><p>The blond was finishing some schoolwork in his dorm when the door opened outside and he realized Zabini had finally arrived. It was past dinner, and Granger had been asleep at least since he returned, if not longer. H didn't bother going to see his friend in, and instead waited for the Italian to step into his room and plop down on his bed.<p>

"I haven't seen you in a while," he commented, removing the schoolbag from his shoulder. He had apparently not returned to his dorm first to get rid of the excess weight, and the blond turned to give him a pointed look.

"As you very well know, I've been busy. Things took an interesting turn recently."

"I see," Blaise commented, resting his elbows on his knees, "I came up just yesterday actually looking for you to see how things were going with Granger, but low and behold- neither of you were up here. I can't imagine where you could take a girl in that condition." He was glaring the taller boy down now, and sitting, they were practically the same height.

"Yes," Draco replied, pushing his schoolwork aside to give his friend his undivided attention, "we went on a little adventure."

Blaise frowned. "What kind of adventure could you possibly drag her on?"

He clicked his tongue. "You're so quick to guess it was me who thought up this trip, but you're wrong; Granger stole my wand and forced me to chase her to the outskirts of the forest, before she threw it down and apparated away to St. Mungo's. Of course I had to follow her- she is mine to watch."

"Of course that's the reason," Zabini mocked, eyebrow arched.

Silver eyes narrowed. "And what does that mean?"

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Whatever you say, Malfoy. So why did Granger drag you to St. Mungo's?"

The blond waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, she was looking for her Healer."

Zabini frowned again. "The creepy old man?"

"Yes, him."

"Whatever would she want to find him for," Blaise wondered, now curious. He leaned back a bit and relaxed, wondering what kind of response he would get.

Draco considered his question. _Well, I think Granger wanted to see if he was dead… if I got anything out of her continuous muttering. But, I don't think it a smart idea to tell Zabini we were looking for him for that purpose, or that he really was dead, until I understand things little better myself. Blaise maybe my best friend, but I need to think things over first._

"She had a question," he lied, not even caring that it was a pathetic lie at that.

His friend looked skeptical. Hermione Granger was a rational person, and she would not drag Malfoy on such a long journey, for so long (he would know, he had come to the dorm room twice looking for his blond friend) without reason. But, it didn't seem Malfoy was willing to share the truth just then. _He'll have to tell me eventually; Draco always has to speak his mind at some point, but I just don't think he will let off steam to Granger. _He nodded in response, not sure what else to say.

"Did you only come up to see where I was yesterday," the blond asked.

His friend chuckled. "Partially. I also had something to discuss with you, but I'll wait to talk to you about that."

He arched an eyebrow. "Anything to do with Nott bothering Pansy by chance?"

Blaise paused. "How did you know that?"

Draco chuckled. "She mentioned it in the hallway today when I ran into her."

The Italian nodded. "Yes, that one is becoming a real pain. At least Pansy will give him a piece of her mind," he continued, looking off into the distance.

The blond chuckled again. "Well, perhaps you should talk to her about it? And him?"

"I have, to both. But if I remember right, I am not the only one having issues with that bastard," he continued, arching an eyebrow. "That's what I wanted to discuss with you, but you look run into the ground Draco, so tonight is not the night to talk about this."

He scoffed. "I'm fine."

"You look exhausted," his friend argued back. "And I have a free period tomorrow after lunch; I'll come up then- if you aren't off running places with Granger," he added, looking his friend in the eye.

"Oh trust me Blaise," Draco replied, stretching, "Granger doesn't seem to want to do anymore running around for a while." The dark look in his eyes was questionable, but Zabini chose to not say anything about it. Whatever went on between the two seemed to be quite serious indeed.

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><p><strong>An: **Not what you were expecting? Definitely not what you were hoping for, I'm sure :D Review you guys! Not a lot of you did last chapter, and I miss hearing what everyone thought of the chapter. It lets me know whether or not this story is still going in a good direction or not.


	18. All of These Years

**A/n:**Reviewers have told me this story is very slow and non-romantic, but, well the romance is still in the making, and I agree that it is quite slow. To make up for this long wait for all of you, I wrote the next chapter, and not just because of reviewers, I have made something happen here. I rewrote this twice, so I hope its good! And all of you reviewers have such mixed feelings! Some adore this, some are bored with it. Well, I can't please everyone, but I never realized just how slow it was going for all of you either :) In my head, it didn't seem as slow. Anyways, thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**, and here's chapter 18!

Also, if anyone has read inadaze's "Broken", you know how long and stressed out, as well as detailed a story can really be. This is kind of like that, as far as how developments go and the speed of romance, okay? Just a warning now, although I don't think the romance will be quite as long in the making.

One day early so that I don't have to get up early and post tomorrow :P

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><p><strong>All of These Years<strong>

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><p>November 11 brought dreary clouds. Hermione thought the effect was not very fitting, considering today she would be taking the last dose of her potion before she could be healed, and then it would be time to start looking for <em>him<em>. But in the meantime, she needed to take that final dose so she could stop cowering behind Malfoy. They had not talked about secrets since the first time a few days ago when she admitted to knowing a Martha and Andrew Evans. Malfoy had informed her the following day that he had owled his mother about those people, and she had naught a clue about who they were either; she even ventured to ask her husband, Lucius, who gave her a perplexed look and turned away, fiddling with something (supposedly).

It was nearly nine and Malfoy was standing by her bed, vile in hand, glaring. She knew he was rather put off that she had yet to tell him anything useful, and she couldn't blame him. He wanted answers that she was afraid to think about, and worried would plague her dreams later when she fell asleep.

He glanced at the clock. "Ready Granger?" She nodded and he extended the vile to her, but caught her wrist, bending in close. "You'll be better after this; no more bullshit excuses about why you cannot tell me something. I expect answers when you wake."

Hermione glared. Leave it to the prick to demand things like that directly before handing her the potion. He nodded his head, indicating that it was the perfect time to take the potion, and she tilted her head back to down it. He watched without interest as she fell back against the pillows, magically catching the vile before the liquid spilled out.

_Another Granger free-day; what will I do with my time now?_ He placed the empty potion bottle into his pocket, crossing his arms as he looked around, a twisted thought entering his mind; she had been hiding so much, it couldn't hurt to just look around, could it? Smirking, he began to snoop around her room. It wasn't like he had to be quiet or anything.

He shifted around piles of books, papers, and muggle pictures, without finding anything interesting. It appeared that all the girl seemed to keep was a lot of junk. He was certain if he sold everything it would cost the same as his bed frame at home. The blond was beginning to lose interest. Miffed, he shoved a pile of papers and watched them tumble to the floor, not even caring that they made a mess. He moved to step over the papers when something caught his eye; a bundle of letters. Suddenly intrigued, he reached and picked the pile up, pulling out her desk chair to sit on and study his find.

They were not very old. Every single one of them had been opened, but each only had an 'H' on the front, which he assumed meant it was addressed to Granger. Removing the muggle toy from around the bundle- some stretchy circle that looked like the things women used to tie their hair into ponytails, only stretchier- and fanned them out. There were multiple letters; he guessed around fifteen. Taking the top one, he opened it, seeing no other markings on the outside.

The first thing he noted before even unfolding the letter was that it was covered in tearstains. The paper could possibly be mistaken for having had a design imprinted on it, but he could feel how the parchment had hardened, and knew it had to be Granger's tears. Whatever he was invading on was private, but he couldn't help himself; he opened the secret paper and began to read.

_Mudblood~ _

_You my darling are a careless, stuck-up bitch. You deliberately did that- you deliberately hit them! Do not even try to deny- I know the truth. I saw them just the other day; I went in to see what was left of them. You mutilated them darling so that I could no longer tell what they had looked like in the end. I planned to go and see Martha again, see my fucking squib son, but that's never going to happen now. Because of you, they are gone forever. My only son, my only child, is now lying dead in the earth, and there is only you to blame. _

_You must think I deserve this, this horrible pain for everything I did to people like you during the war. You are so very wrong, Mudblood. I only did what was needed; what was right. But I was going to protect them; I wanted someone to fall back on that would take care of me and let me show my son what I can really do, but that dream is gone. My wife may have tortured you before, but you have no idea what torture is. You thought she was bad? Just wait until you meet me, face to face. _

_I do not pity; you have nothing I want. All I want is for you to feel my pain, and understand what I am going through. And trust me my sweet; you will understand everything when I am through with you. You may have never known them, but I did, and now you must pay for killing them._

_Goodbye Mudblood. I'll be seeing you soon._

His eyes bulged as he read the signature at the bottom, gripping the letter far too tightly and tearing the edges. If it were his, it would be in pieces already. It was impossible that he had written her, seeing as the bastard was supposedly in prison, but somehow he had written to her, because of something he did.

Draco's heart was hammering. That was one wizard he did not enjoy crossing paths with. He was far worse then his wife, even if people didn't know it. Things still made so little sense in his mind, but he knew this was a major puzzle piece.

He turned his eyes back to her bed. How dare she not tell him? It was his relative! He had a right to know- fuck, he had a right to be scared. Whatever he had done it had somehow-

_It had somehow what? It doesn't make sense, how all of this ties together anymore. I don't understand; when Granger wakes up though, she will absolutely be answering my fucking questions. No more of this bullshit, now that I know this. _He set the letter aside, staring at the bundle. If that had been the first letter, what might the others reveal? His blood was still boiling from figuring out who had sent that, and somehow entered this complicated mess, but his curiosity was still soaring. Letting it get the better of him, he ripped open the second letter too.

_Mudblood~_

_Do you enjoy my games? I'm certain you know how your father fell- and it was a nasty fall too. But, because of you, he'll recover, in far worse condition then how he set out this morning. You must always interfere mustn't you? You ruin my life yet you save your father's life- how touching. You're treading dangerous ground, and the more you play with me the worse the end result will be._

_Why don't you come out darling? It's been a very long time since we have seen each other, actually, since I saw you. You have probably never paid me much attention, but it is easy to follow a stupid bitch like you. You are always outside, bothering people and attempting to help. How long do you think you can hide, hmm? _

_Don't try and be smart girlie- there are many things still that I can do to you. You think I will only come after your parents? Try me; you will not be able to act quick enough to do anything. As you read this now you are wasting precious time, and that's truly a shame. _

_I'm getting closer to my goal Mudblood. _

He tossed the letter back onto the desk, disgust filling his chest. What did that mean? What could he have possibly done? Did that mean- oh Merlin! He rubbed his eyes, a massive headache forming. He suddenly understood nothing, and knew he would probably need to read all of those to begin to understand; he had all day, and then he could confront Granger about everything he wanted to.

And that he now needed to. He needed to know what _he_ had done, and truly how things tied together. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he magically copied every letter, before using another spell to hold them all together so he could carry them. Replacing everything as best he could, he glanced over at Granger, suddenly feeling a huge amount of pity for the girl. Knowing who had bothered her, and just what he may or may not have done, made the blond's stomach turn. He may not be particularly fond of the girl, but he could pity her for this.

_I hope the bastard never decides to show his face again. We have some unsettled business as well._

He glanced down at the stack of papers in his hand. What a treasure he would get to read. _I just hope there's nothing horribly crude in there._

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><p>He was pacing back and forth. Theo had seen the pair near Welsh's apartment, and that was concerning. He knew she only had enough courage to venture there because she had Draco there with her, but it was still a bad choice on her part. If the blond had been unreliable and left her alone, Theo would've had her to him by now, and she would be feeling the consequences of escaping him. The fucking girl was intolerable.<p>

No matter though; he planned to have her by his side soon enough, it would just take some truly excellent planning. And Theo not fucking this up. If she could be simply extracted from the company of others, then he could obtain her. It wasn't like anyone would see her after anyways, for he owed her for the mark on his face; the only disfiguring blemish.

He touched the mark now. She had escaped his grasp because of it, the clever bitch. No matter though, he would make her pay. Once he had her again, he would finish her off.

Sitting on the window, he contemplated the involvement of Malfoy. He had been quite involved with the girl lately, and he could not fathom why that would be. She should've already been dead yes, so the fucking cure had been administered, but the blond truly did not have to be as close to her as he had often noticed. Why would that be though?

He stroked his mustache, thinking that over again.

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><p>Draco had yet to touch the next letters by the following morning. He had spent much of the night mulling over everything he knew, and tried to make sense of it all. Now, he was certain he understood a few things.<p>

A. Granger had him stalking her, for killing someone(s), presumably Martha and Andrew Evans. There were emotional ties there that he could not quite figure out yet. Lying there in bed, he decided it was probably explained in one of the later letters.

B. He was related to the bastard, if only by marriage, and they did not get along.

C. The revenge taken for Granger's apparent murder spree had been taking out possibly on her parents- only figured out from the smidge of information involving her father of course- and had not proven successful thus far.

D. She had an unhealthy attraction to that red bandana.

E. This man may or may not have been the one responsible for killing her Healer Welsh- although Malfoy liked to assume that was correct.

F. Somehow, she had developed a deadly cancer over the summer that Malfoy luckily had a cure for, and was probably brought on by something the man had done. It would make sense, since it spread so fat, right?

G. She was emotionally scarred by some sort of event.

H. The letters had made her cry.

I. She seemed very weary of situations involving this one traumatic event- whatever _that _was.

J. She kept crude letters that probably did nothing to make her feel better.

K. She had a new scar carved on her arm, over the old 'Mudblood' one.

L. She had obviously not told her sweet little friends.

M. Granger had told him he was not ready to know who had carved the word into her arm, and she had been right. He didn't want to deal with the coming storm, but had the strangest feeling that he would have to.

So maybe he didn't understand a lot, but he intended on getting more out of her once she woke up. Rubbing his temples, he tried to stop the headache again. So many things were centered around the fucking girl in the next room, he wasn't sure how the cancer and this man even exactly fit together, but he planned to have her tell him herself.

_Unless she is too torn up to indulge anything… I can almost understand why she doesn't tell me things, but it's no excuse. He is one man, and she should've reported it long ago. _Rolling over, he pulled the covers up. It was barely six, and Granger could not wake until nine. He had some time to catch a bit more sleep, and he really needed that.

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><p>Hermione awoke that morning in a daze. Her dreams had been terrifying memories of him, and all she wanted to do was cuddle away with her bandana and remember something happier, but her body seemed to be done sleeping. It made sense really, since she had spent an entire day in her dreams. But it was a restless sleep. Her body felt better, but her emotions were jumping around again. After dreaming again, she felt spent, but she would have to get up and face Malfoy at some point, unfortunately. He was probably curious if he had killed her yet or not.<p>

_And wondering when I plan to answer more of his stupid questions… what else can I even tell him? I could tell him anything, but what won't hurt my heart too badly?_

She paused, sickened. Honestly, she shouldn't have to tell him things until she was ready, but ever the prick, he was ready to push her past her limits. With a sigh, she realized she would have to tell him something, and the sooner she did the less time she would have to waste with him. Really, she wanted her space from the boy.

Standing, she slowly prepared to go see him.

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><p>He was pacing his room. It was after nine, and all he had done since waking up was contemplate everything he knew. She seemed fragile when those topics came up, and he wondered how she would take it when he confronted her. Bringing up who it was probably wouldn't be any better, but fuck, he needed to know. In fact, he needed to <em>learn <em>a lot of things.

It was also terribly strange that he had signed at least the first two letters he owled to her, but signed the most recent ones with "Your Friend".

Everything was so confusing; he had no idea how to go about it, and his emotions were all over. He suddenly felt like he owed her something, since it was a member of his family that had bothered her, but at the same time he felt anger for having been kept in the dark. Really; he had a right to know!

It was horrifying to realize he was out of prison at all. Considering Draco knew he had been sentenced to Azkaban for life, it meant he had escaped somehow; a feat that was hard to do. But, his Aunt had been just as crafty, and he should've expected this long ago. But never in his wildest dreams did he think Granger would be on the receiving end of the man's wrath. Really, Potter seemed like a more likely candidate, and Draco himself was above that.

_She is Potter's friend though, and she did do something to make him exceptionally angry…_

He stopped pacing and rubbed his temples. Damn, in one short day he had developed a headache far worse then any he had with Granger around. This sudden splurge of information was a lot to take in and face, and he just wasn't sure how he wanted to react yet.

Walking over to his desk, he unfolded the letter again, reading the horrific signature there. Why had he bothered writing a name? Didn't he worry about instances like this when someone found the letters, or was that the whole idea? Did he want people knowing exactly who had done all of this, and that was why this was the first real thing Malfoy understood?

The only thing he was damn certain of was who had been bothering her, but everything else was a puzzle piece he had yet to figure out.

_Hopefully, Granger will help me with that very soon…_

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><p>It took Hermione longer then normal to get ready, despite feeling better. She had her wand in her hand when she walked out of her bedroom, ready to hex the prick the moment he started asking questions. She had come to the conclusion that they were her secrets, and she did not have to answer to anyone if she didn't want to. Thankfully, the blond was not in the living room, and she moved easily into the kitchen to find something to eat. After all, the Headmistress would have to come and check eventually, to tell them she could finally return to class.<p>

Pulling out a yogurt from the fridge- which made food appear so long as they knew what they wanted- she turned and took a seat on the sofa, happy to indulge in the tasty food. She had only begun to eat when someone cleared their throat, and she instantly turned to see Malfoy's blond head; it killed her good mood.

"Malfoy," she said, turning back to her food. She didn't want to do this, didn't he understand that?

"Granger," he snapped in return, coming to stand by the sofa, "you really owe me some fucking answers."

She rolled her eyes. It was too early to get into things with him. "Malfoy, I'm not-"

Hermione stopped talking as a letter landed on her lap. Eyes wide, she glanced up at him, but his expression was unreadable. With a frown, she set aside the food to see just what Malfoy could not voice; it was truly strange behavior. Picking up the letter, she immediately noticed something was wrong.

There were tear marks that littered the paper like a design, except you could feel where the paper had hardened over time. Eyes widening, she tore the envelope open.

_Mudblood~_

She jumped up, not even noticing when her yogurt fell over. "You were looking through my room," she screamed.

"Only because you wouldn't tell me anything," he countered, as though what he had done was not wrong or rude or anything else.

She slapped him on the chest, immensely grateful that she was done with the potion, else she may not have been able to put as much force behind it. "You think that gives you the right to look through my things? Merlin Malfoy, did you read these?" She hit him again. "How dare you!"

Granger moved to hit his chest a third time, but he was done with it and caught her arm. "You're questioning me," he sneered, getting in her face. "That's rich Granger, considering who _sent _you the letter. I have a right to know!"

She pulled away and stepped back, eyes wide. "You have no right to go looking through my things Malfoy," she screamed, grabbing her wand. With a quick, expertly aimed flick of her wrist she had him flying back into the nearby wall. "I don't care how curious you are; my private life is not something you can ever squeeze your way into! Stay out of my things!"

He chuckled, fed up with her. She had no right anymore not to tell him what was going on, when it could very well involve him quite a bit. Standing, he brushed himself off carelessly as he spoke. "If you were less stingy and had just told me something to begin with we wouldn't even be here right now."

"You're right; because this should never have happened! You should know how to stay out of peoples things," she replied, feeling the dread rise up in his body. Obviously, he had read at least the first note, and now believed she owed him explanations, but she couldn't do that; he shouldn't know at all.

He shrugged. "It's a bit late for that though isn't it? Stop running from whatever you're fucking fears are and try facing them," Draco countered, flicking his own wrist as he walked forwards, knocking the letter from her hands. They both watched it fall in slow motion, close enough that both of them could clearly make out the signature at the bottom as the letter hit the floor soundlessly. Hermione looked on at it with resentment and terror, and Malfoy looked at it in mild curiosity and annoyance that he had not realized just who this was soon.

They were staring at the signature of Rodolphus Lestrange.

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><p>"Granger," he called, beating on the wood of her door. Promptly after dropping the letter, she had slapped him as hard as the girl possibly could and then proceeded to storm off to her room. It had been ten minutes, and he couldn't believe she was ignoring him. They actually had something to discuss- something he possibly knew more about then she did- and yet she was being a stubborn bint and ignoring him completely. "Granger, open the bloody door!"<p>

He was met with silence. She had probably put up a silencing charm, and that was frustrating. Obviously the girl Granger had become the past summer had no problem at all running from her fears, and that just wasn't like her. Wasn't Granger commonly known for being brave, after all?

_She hasn't told her little friends though, so I wonder what exactly my uncle did to ruin her mindset. _

He stepped away from the door and ran a hand through his hair. This wasn't going well, and he wasn't likely to get anywhere with her for a while. She had shut herself away in her room, and it was probably expected- looking through her things was a _little _uncalled for, if not necessary. It was a complete invasion of privacy, and he knew that; he just chose to ignore it. He had gotten an answer, even if it still left multiple things unanswered.

With a groan he leaned back against the door and pounded on it half-heartedly again. "Granger?"

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><p>It couldn't be happening that quickly; she didn't believe it. How in one short day did he flip back to his normal self and search through her belongings? She probably should've expected this type of behavior from Malfoy, but still! He could try and at least act considerate of other people, couldn't he?<p>

She had been leaning against her door for a while now, and Malfoy's pounding was beginning to hurt her back, but she refused to talk to him. They weren't his secrets to know, and he should've accepted that. She never planned on indulging him in her past summer anyways, simply because they were not friends. But as he had pointed out more then a few times, her friends were currently unavailable. That still didn't mean she owed him a life story though.

Her face was stained in tears both from frustration and regret. Thinking of him as a person, as _Rodolphus_, Malfoy's uncle, was terrifying. She had tried on more the one occasion to not give him a face in her mind, because it made everything less real. Call her a fool, but she could hardly live with herself, after everything that had happened that past summer.

_If nothing had happened, I would never have gotten the cancer. _She hit her head against a door, and heard someone move on the other side. Obviously, Malfoy was still there, and that was a pity. She had no desire to face him, and she had begun her morning the same way.

Why did he have to ruin things? No one was supposed to know what was happening, and now he would push for answers to the multiple questions he must have. She could only imagine what his mind had thought up, and that would never do. She had things to do now involving his uncle and Malfoy would not be in the middle of it. He may offer a bit of protection from the man, but she refused to take it. She was better now, and could handle herself just fine. Besides, using Malfoy would just mean more of his stupid questions. Why did people always want to know everything?

She inwardly groaned as Malfoy said her name again. She had not put up a silencing spell, and had heard everything he had said, but continued to ignore him. The sudden change of tone however threw her off, and she leaned away from the door a bit to glance up at it. His tone of voice had suddenly gone from frustrated and angry to sounding… remorseful- but no, that couldn't be right, because Malfoy could not even know how remorse felt. It had to simply just be defeat, now that he knew he would be getting no answers to his questions. _Yes, that's it._

After a few more minutes, she finally stood up. It was quiet outside her room now, and her back hurt from leaning against the door, and eventually sliding down it. She collapsed on her bed, feeling like the entire day had just turned to hell. What did he know? He couldn't know too much, considering he was still asking answers, unless he just wanted her verification that everything was true. That could also be a possibility, knowing him. She rolled over and shoved her face into a pillow, willing it to swallow her.

She really wished Ginny was around to talk to. They had always gotten along really well, and often talked to each other about their problems. She wasn't ready to go into the gory details of everything she had encountered at her own home, but having someone- who wasn't _Malfoy-_ to really talk to about everything would be marvelous. Now, if only the girl wasn't having mixed feelings about Hermione, then the idea may have been possible, but it wasn't.

Searching under the pillow, she pulled out the telltale red bandana, and sat up, running the cheap cloth through her fingers. It was a good comfort, if not a pathetic one. Sitting there on her bed, she couldn't help but wonder if she really had withheld information too long.

It really just came down to one simple question; did he truly deserve to know anything?

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><p>A few hours later, Draco was in the kitchen finally collecting everything he had used for the potion. The blond was immensely surprised the ingredients lasted for so long. It was convenient though, for he had not had to owl his relative again for more; that would've been another visit into Hogsmeade.<p>

His irritation with the stubborn girl was now set in stone; he would have the rest of his answers, but not quite yet. The girl's face earlier was still locked into his mind, and he figured he needed to sit back and see what would happen. Sure, he would give her one day more, if only so his own mind could ponder the information he now had, but past that it would be right back to harassing the Gryffindor for questions. This mess was a jumble in his mind again, and he refused to be caught up on this entire ordeal any longer then needed. Once he had his answers, his mind would be clear and he could move on to far more important things.

_Right? _He had a very bad feeling that may not be the case, but refused to put too much thought into it. If he did, he would probably just end up with a headache again. Glancing up from his progress, he looked at her bedroom door; still no Granger. She had been hiding in that room for a while now, and he wondered what that meant. Was her reaction to him finding out really that terrible?

_It could be, you don't know what goes on inside her head. _He shook the thought away, continuing to clean up. He had everything together when a knock sounded at the door, and he left the items to see who was bothering him now. Glancing out the eyehole, he saw someone he did not want to encounter, but needed to speak to. With a sigh, he swung the portrait open.

"What do you want Nott?"

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><p><strong>An: **Yes yes I know, before anyone says anything, I left it kind of cliffy. But before anyone brings it up, remember I did offer something to work with. Why did I reveal who this was first, before anything else? Well, that's simple; its important :)

Also, I am aware cancer cannot be caused by trauma or anything, but in some studies doctors and such have theorized that you can, and I'm using that slim theory in my story; I just thought I should let you know! Now, review my lovelies, because for once I gave you something to really work with.

Do you now see the hints that the story offered before? And yes, some special reviewers did catch the hints and know who it was. Great job to those of you that did ;) You know who you are. And I promise, next chapter I won't have such an obnoxiously long set of author's notes!


	19. But You Still Have

**A/n:**You guys are awesome, and I had this done so I posted quite early. I'm not sure if I'll post again this week or if this is it, but tada! Thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**!

**But You Still Have**

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><p>The other boy clicked his tongue. "That's hardly a way to greet someone, Malfoy."<p>

Draco rolled his eyes, in no mood to deal with this idiot. "If I gave a damn Nott, I would've said something different. But, you honestly annoy the fuck out of me, so I'm not about to waste time greeting you cordially. State whatever you want and then leave."

Theo chuckled, attempting to walk into the apartment, but the blond shoved him back. The boy was completely insane as far as he was concerned, and wouldn't be dealing with another confrontation between Nott and his roommate so late into the day. Really, didn't he ever get tired? "You're not coming in," Draco stated firmly, leaning against the doorframe. Nott frowned, but didn't move to get pass him again. "Now what do you want?"

Nott opened his mouth to reply, but something over his housemates shoulder made him stop and grin. "Hello Mudblood."

Malfoy glanced quickly back at her as well, not really registering what kind of state that she was in, just that she was there, before locking his gaze on the boy again. Had he taken another moment or two, he would've noticed her tear stained cheeks, slightly shaking fingers, and the red cloth clutched in her hand. He didn't notice, but Theo did. "What have you got there Mudblood," he asked again, leaning the opposite way Draco was, so he could see her.

The blond frowned. "Leave her alone Nott; you came to see me."

He shrugged. "And she came out to join us." His eyes ran down her body, covered in clothing a bit too big- obviously only meant for comfort- and moved back up to her face. "You look a bit upset Granger; did Malfoy finally bring you down?"

_Something like that, _he thought. "Leave her alone," the blond said instead, remembering Granger's jumpy emotions earlier. From what he had seen, she could either hex him or cry, or both and all of those would be something left for him to handle, and he did not want that.

He was still looking past Malfoy. "She can answer herself."

Hermione up until that moment hadn't noticed that she was going to be drug into the conversation. Lost in her own thoughts, she had heard what Nott was saying but had not bothered to process it. Now, she noticed that he was giving her a coy smile, and that the look in his eyes was quite unsettling. Realizing what had been said, she stomped over to the doorway, shoving the bandana as far into her pocket as possible.

"Would you shut up," she said, approaching the two. She stopped just in front of Nott, slightly to the side of Malfoy. "I don't particularly like speaking to you Nott, so would you kindly leave me out of your conversation? I doubt I was even the real topic, so bugger off."

Draco glanced behind him. So there was the typical Granger attitude, ready to defend herself again towards the same idiot who practically tried to grab her and run less then a week before. Interesting that she decided to stand up for herself after screaming at him; well, maybe screaming at him just gave her enough drive to go and scream at everyone.

"And how do you know you're not the center of what I was going to bring up," he asked, snapping a hand out and grabbing her wrist. In half a second Draco had him pinned back to the wall away from her, but she had her wand resting on the idiot's nose. The blond glanced at her. _Well, at least she's not _afraid _to stand up for herself._

"Please stop bothering me," she said, wand never leaving his nose. "It's tedious to always deal with you, and I've faced worse opponents then you; this is nothing. So please, leave."

Her blond roommate chuckled, but Nott's eyes looked livid. "You think you can tell me what to do, you filthy whore? Try me." He wasn't paying Draco any mind anymore- despite the tight grip he had on his neck- and focused solely on pissing her off.

She pressed the wand firmer into his nose, making an indent. "No Nott, I believe you would have to try _me_."

He chuckled, eyes still on her. "Trust me," he sneered, "I will."

The next few moments happened for a blur for Hermione. He jutted a leg out and kicked her hard, knocking her to the ground as he ripped the bandana from her pocket. Malfoy tossed Nott into the room, specifically so no one else would see anything. Both boys had their wands out quickly, but Theo had a nice slash through Malfoy's cheek before he got a spell in.

Nott leapt up, the boils on his skin already forming, but he paid it no mind. He had eyes only for the brunette who was scrambling up from the floor. Wand trained still on Malfoy, he spoke. "Hey Granger," he called, eyes jumping between the two forms. The blond threw another spell that Theo narrowly dodged. "Here's a little message," he said snidely, before dropping her bandana into a nearby flame.

"No," she screamed, jumping up and rushing towards the boy who whipped his wand around to train on her, but that was a mistake; Malfoy had it knocked out of his hands in an instant, and was about to stupefy him when Granger's voice cut threw the air again.

"Silenco! Incarcerous! Stupefy!" The unconscious body of Nott dropped to the floor, ropes wrapped around his body. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her as she shoved past him, making a beeline to the candle and dropping her wand on the way. Her suddenly terrified reaction was a 180 from the confident bossy Granger she had been less then two minutes ago. He watched with curious eyes as she reached into the flame to remove the part of the material that was burning, singing her fingers in the process. But she seemed to hardly register the pain, even as a flame took a hold of her sweater sleeve.

He wordlessly put the entire flame out with water, looking at the red, burned skin it felt behind. Her mind was still elsewhere though, focused solely on picking up the material with trembling fingers.

_She's so torn up over a piece of cloth… I wonder why that is?_ Stepping forwards, he stopped beside her and picked up a chard piece of fabric like she was, handing it to her without question. Her head snapped around as his palm got close to her face, but she stopped moving entirely when she saw the fabric there. Instead of removing it, she looked up at his face, eyes watery.

"Why do you help me," she asked quietly, her legs giving out, and she collapsed onto the floor, what was left of her bandana clutched tightly to her chest. "Why do you care," she continued, and he could hear her voice hitch as she started crying.

He didn't quite know what to do now, since he was no good at comforting. But having Granger crying in the middle of their common room, and unconscious schoolmate behind them, wasn't a situation he could just ignore. Reaching down, he pulled her back into a standing position, despite her protests.

"What are you doing," she asked, being forced to sit on the couch. He didn't respond, just looked at the pain on her face. Could a simple piece of fabric really mean so much to a person?

Instead of answering her question, he inclined his head towards Nott's still unconscious body. "Do you honestly care what he had to say?" Shaking her head no, he stood. "Then I think I'll just go dump him in the halls, for a teacher to find in the morning."

She started to protest. "Malfoy-"

"Make some tea Granger," he replied, cutting in. Levitating Nott's body, he glanced back at her. "You need to calm your nerves. I'll be back in a few minutes; he may have something decent to pickpocket as well."

Hermione didn't respond, but sat on the couch until Malfoy and Nott were out the door. Once they were gone, she whipped away more stray tears. He had to be working with Rodolphus, else he would never have known to burn that particular item. She should've been more careful, should've watched it better. It was precious to her.

Standing, she agreed with Malfoy's idea and decided to make tea. Oh, she was sure he would return with nothing short of a bucket full of questions, and she would need the soothing drink to even stand the first one that would roll off his tongue. After her reaction, what else could she expect?

* * *

><p>After dropping Nott of several halls away from their dorm, Malfoy made sure to erase the last twenty minutes of his memory (for good measure) and re-administered the stupefy spell, before he stepped back. Whispering a spell that swept over his housemate, multiple items from Theo's pockets jumped up. A pick-pocketing spell; a bit illegal but handy in situations like this. What had Nott been carrying?<p>

A wand, a watch, two small hard candies, a book, a folded piece of paper, and a muggle knife popped up into the air. Draco raised an eyebrow at these, tapping the wand and taffies, so that they fell back into their rightful places and inspected the others.

The watch was nice, made of gold, and decent for an old pocket watch. He took it, since the boy had been such a bother lately. The book was small, some sort of story they had for a class, and Nott had probably picked it up earlier. _Don't need that. _

He dusted his wand over the note, and it opened so he could read it.

_Rodolphus~_

_I'm going to talk to her tonight-_

_Interesting, _He thought, taking the note and placing it into his pocket. Something to read later, but he didn't want anyone appearing and ruining his little deposit of Nott. The bastard probably deserved a lot more, but he didn't really want to go through the trouble. The last thing was the muggle knife, which he took without a thought. The sheer fact that he had that weapon alone meant he had planned to cause trouble from the moment he walked up to their door. Turning on his hell, he left the unfortunate boy on the floor, and headed back to the dorm.

* * *

><p>Entering the dorm the first thing Malfoy noted was that it smelled lovely- like the tea he had suggested she brew. Shutting the door, he was her sitting on the sofa, ruined bandana across her lap, cheeks tearstained. The teacup shook badly in her hands, and he wondered when she would drop it all over herself, but went to sit near her nonetheless.<p>

"Granger," he said, raising an eyebrow at her. The girl's wand was nowhere to be seen, but he supposed it was still in its old spot.

"Malfoy," she replied, not moving. The glass still shook and she was still looking down. He waited for her to say something, but nothing came, and he continued to listen to the cup rattle annoyingly against the saucer. At length, he reached over and took it from her. She protested for half a moment, causing the liquid to slosh onto her bandana. She hissed, and let go, allowing him to put the cup down. Part of the liquid hit his finger, and he suppressed a hiss of his own. Merlin, if she had been drinking that she would have third degree burns on the inside of her mouth.

He instantly numbed the area the liquid had touched, and expected her to do the same. When she didn't, he did it for her so that she would never be able to say he had burned her and didn't care. He didn't need her preaching him. Another moment passed before he spoke again. "Granger?"

She slowly looked at him, the upset look on her face kicking his mind into high gear. The bandana had to be sacred or something. He expected her to tell him to go away like usual, but she did not. Instead, she looked just below his eyes. "You should fit that cut."

Draco's hand moved to the small cut on his face, the one Nott had administered. Maybe he would've cared more, had the girl in front of him not looked so beaten. It wasn't anything physical, but he could tell she was being emotionally abused; in fact, she did not seem to have gained any marks from when Nott and kicked her into the wall, and that was good.

"It's a scratch Granger," he said, rolling his eyes, but raised his wand to fix the mark anyways. She watched him the entire time, eyes unfocused. "Something you're looking at Granger? Perhaps another cut," he drawled, hoping she would just talk about something.

Her eyes turned down, and she reached onto the fabric to remove a piece of charred bandana, black now. She took his hand without flinching and deposited it into his hand. He looked completely thrown, and met her deep brown eyes again, searching for answers.

"It used to stand for courage Malfoy," she said, voice wavering, "something I haven't had in a long time."

He raised an eyebrow. _Charred fabric means courage?_ "What are you talking about Granger?"

Hermione shook her head sadly, pursing her lips before she spoke. "Do you have anything that means a lot to you Malfoy? More then the world?"

The blond frowned, thinking. Did he? "I suppose," he replied, although nothing really came to mind.

If she caught his lie she didn't say. Instead, she nodded towards the cloth in her hand, now mostly destroyed. "This did-still does- matter to me more then the world. It was my mother's."

Draco nodded, but he wasn't really following what she was saying anymore. In fact, he was quite lost. "Glad your mother had such an influence on you then," he tried, eyebrows furrowing.

She shook her head, picking up the fragile material and wrapping it once around her wrist, eyes focused solely on her task, but he could hear her quickening breath and feared another set of tears were on their way. "She's dead," she said, choking out the words.

For a moment, he was a bit stunned. _Yes, that made a bit of sense, since they never once showed up all the times their daughter went to St. Mungo's but- wait, she only said her mother. _He opened his mouth to ask about him, but shut it again. She was sobbing now, and it didn't seem like the smartest question.

He sat there awkwardly. What was he supposed to do? Watch or help? Leave or try to comfort? Caught between a rock and a hard spot he reached out to pat her shoulder, and was caught completely off guard when she leaned into his arm, searching for something to lean against. He didn't move, didn't dare, because he didn't know how he suddenly felt about the situation. Did he want to offer comfort to her, like this?

The choice was taken from him when Granger, and her bandana, scooted closer so their legs touched, but she stayed upright. He assumed that was from fear- or wonder- about whether or not he would chuck her across the room for acting like this. He didn't do anything, except continue to rub her shoulder- now the opposite one since she had gotten closer.

He wondered if she planned to talk. He didn't speak, although he had a multitude of things he wanted to ask her. She continued to cry, and he thought that it would go on that way until she passed out, but Granger surprised him by speaking again.

"They're both gone," she continued, beginning to sound hysterical, "he k-killed them both." He heard the stutter and glanced down; the girl looked an absolute mess.

She would never understand how much of his upbringing he had to swallow down to do what he did next; reaching his other arm around her; he pulled her so she was held against his body. Momentarily stunned, her tears stopped and she looked up at him in complete surprise.

Fighting down how uncomfortable it all was for him, he held her gaze. "Just cry Granger; we both know you are going to one way or the other."

And that's all it took. She didn't ask if he was sure, or give a snarky comment for being so sweet to her of all people. Instead, she chose the bit of comfort he was offering and buried her head between the crook of his neck and shoulder, continuing to sob.

By her reaction, he assumed it was the first time she had told anybody. But now he knew that her parents were gone, and that his uncle had to be the one responsible for it- but why? What did she do to Rodolphus for him to come back at her, and leave her like this?

He rubbed a hand awkwardly over her back at first, but eventually the action felt natural and the feeling of discomfort washed away. He stopped considering things and relaxed into the sofa, head falling back so he could block every thought from his mind, while Granger's sobs slowly began to quite down. At some point, they stopped entirely, and Malfoy was nearly out when he realized this. Forcing his eyes open, he gave the girl a gentle shake, but noticed instantly that she had cried herself to sleep. Thinking it was strange that she had done so- willingly at that- in his arms was truly a wonder. Her head was still resting against his body, and her own had relaxed. How long had she been out?

He considered moving her back to her bedroom, but shifted and thought better of it. He was tired, and carrying Granger could be a bad idea in this state. Slipping away from her, he laid her down on the couch; bandana draped next to her head, and conjured a blanket to throw over her. It was a cold time of the year, after all. He made sure to place her wand on the table before turning to go to his room. Once the door shut, the full force of what he had done hit him like a ton of bricks.

_Did I just comfort Mudblood Granger, and let her fall asleep on me for crying? Do I pity the deaths of her parents that much? _He fell onto the bed, mind swimming. _Why did I ever allow her so close?_

The only problem with asking himself those questions was that Malfoy wasn't sure he wanted the answers. Pushing his pillow over his face, he willed some type of sleep to come, and didn't even bother changing.

* * *

><p>When Hermione started waking up the next morning, the first thing that she noticed was that if she rolled over a bit, she hit something soft and tall- which was strange. Eyes slowly blinking open, she took in the sight of the dorm room's coffee table and her wand, sitting there neatly.<p>

Her throat felt raw and dry, and it took a moment to realize that she had fallen asleep crying on- _oh Merlin_- Malfoy.

That thought caused her to sit up quickly and look around; no Malfoy in sight. She relaxed a bit. At least he had enough common sense to not stay with her, because that would be completely uncalled for. Remembering what happened the other night, she blinked back a stray tear. She would not keep crying, but Merlin it hurt. That bandana was the only thing she had felt to remember her parents by- which she guessed was more then Harry had to start out with- but still, it had sentimental value that could not be replaced, and now it was mostly gone.

Looking around her, she noticed that Malfoy had been kind enough- _kind enough?_- to place the material next to her head; it was a thoughtful gesture if nothing else. Actually, the blond had been uncharacteristically nice last night, and had never realized until then just how much she yearned for human contact, for someone to speak to and unpack her burdens onto; share. Was Malfoy destined to be that person? She hoped not, but if he were, at the very least he was quiet and mostly considerate when you talked. He would probably never be her first choice when she looked for a shoulder to cry on, but for the time being he was all she had; her friends still had not returned, and running through the school would probably just get her into trouble with the Headmistress. No, Malfoy was it for now, and she would just have to accept that.

But she had to admit, it was easy to be comfortable in Malfoy's grip. _Oi, I must be sleep deprived if I'm thinking that. It's time for some tea._ Standing, she patted down her mat of hair and turned to the kitchen, but found her blond roommate walking out of there, a cup of what she presumed to be coffee in his hands.

"Morning Granger," he said, passing her to sit on the chair. She watched him, the elegant movements she had always deemed cocky seeming to have a little less of an arrogant manner to him this morning; he looked a bit worn.

"Morning Malfoy," she replied, leaving him for the kitchen. How long had he been awake?

He watched her go, gaze following her until she disappeared. He wasn't quite sure how to feel about her after last night- nothing happened, but he knew at least two of her secrets; something had happened to anger his uncle Rodolphus that involved her, and it seemed her parents died because of it. But that didn't mean he had to feel bad for her, so why did he? He rarely pitied anyone- because he was too busy pitying himself- but Granger seemed to have a really shitty life as of late. He wondered how she had managed through the summer without her bloody friends, and really without them finding out. Weasel seemed to be smitten with her, Potter protective of her, and the Weaselette her best mate- that is, until the blowup a while back. Had the friendships between the four been strained, or was that Granger's own doing?

The blond tapped his chin thoughtfully. He had letters in her room to go and read if he desired, but what good would that do? Last time Granger found out that he had been reading her mail, she practically threw a tantrum.

_Then again, the bint never asked for the letters back… if I am careful not to mention anything, I could always read to my hearts content; then I know everything I need to, whether or not Granger tells me anything more. _He stood to make his way to his room, when a knock on the door banished the idea. He groaned. _If that is Nott again I am going to kill him. _

He turned to the door, but Granger was already hurrying towards it herself, a cup of tea in her hands. He leaned against the sofa, watching as she peered out a moment before opening the door entirely, revealing their Headmistress. He didn't straighten, but she did.

"Hello Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger- oh, you look so much better," she said, looking at Hermione with a smile. "I apologize for my early visit, but I meant to get up here a few days ago, but some events delayed my arrival." Malfoy narrowed his eyes, noting how she skipped around any real information. Granger was nodding however, moving to sit on the sofa in front of where he was standing. He didn't move though, despite the odd position.

"What brings you up here," Hermione asks at length when Minerva simply decides to stare at her.

"You've had a remarkable recovery Miss Granger," McGonagall says, looking her over. The color in the bookworm's face and easy movement the girl used to sit down was a drastic change from the last time they talked. She could hardly believe how good she looked. "How are you feeling?"

Hermione started to say something, but Draco was preoccupied by the owl that appeared carrying their mail. Nothing came for Granger, but he found a letter for himself as well as the Daily Prophet that was usually delivered to him; thankfully, this newspaper was not attached to the letter, so his mother had not read something else that sent her over the edge. Setting his mother's letter aside, he fed the owl a treat or two to satisfy him, before turning his complete attention to the paper to see if anything spiked his curiosity. Low and behold, the front page was screaming at him.

_Oh Merlin's balls, Granger needs to read this. _He turned back to the conversation he had only been out of for a moment, but noticed the headmistress was already taking her leave. _That was obnoxiously fast. _

"I think you may just be ready to start attending class again very soon Miss Granger," the woman said, smiling, "but I want Pompfrey to come up and check on you before I release you back into school, and we may need a note from a doctor."

"Of course," Hermione said, only able to focus on the idea of being off dorm-arrest and back into her studies, as well as her search for Rodolphus. They still had unfinished business.

"I'll send Madame Pompfrey up, but she may not be by for a bit; you never know how things are going down in the hospital wing." Hermione nodded while the blond behind her remained silent, before the Gryffindor showed the Headmistress out. Once she was gone, Malfoy wasted no time throwing the paper down on the sofa for her to see.

"What's that," she asked, stepping closer, but didn't need for him to tell her once she read the title. Splattered across the front page of the paper was a picture of her old Healer Welsh, with a title reading: _St. Mungo's Healer Found Slaughtered in Apartment, Assistant Found at Scene of Crime. _

She scrambled to pick up the paper, and found Malfoy just behind her, reading the article over her shoulder.

_Healer Daniel Welsh, age 40, was found dead last week in his apartment in a muggle neighborhood. His assistant, a nurse by the name of Annabelle Day, was found at the scene of the crime. Auror's have been investigating the home since last week, trying to figure out just what had happened there._

_Investigators have concluded a few things; Annabelle Day was not responsible for the murder of Daniel Welsh, and the Healer has been dead for nearly a month. The wizard responsible for Welsh's death had Miss Day under a powerful Imperious Curse, though the caster is unknown. The Ministry has been working hard to keep this case quiet, but some loose end let the story leak to the public. _

_The public is beginning to wonder why Daniel Welsh died so suddenly, without cause, and eyes are now turning to Hermione Granger, who's story of recovery from her cancer pulled at the heartstrings of many readers. Did the Golden Trio member jump into blind fury because her Healer leaked her story? Or perhaps she had Draco Malfoy help her with the task, since the two seem remarkably close. A few students who were sighted in Hogsmeade last weekend told reporters that the two have spent over a month up in the Head's dorms, but isn't Miss Granger cured? Once can only imagine the scandalous rumors traveling around about those two!_

_Yet the question still remains; is Miss Granger a killer? Or is there someone else out there playing a key role in this entire ordeal? We will have to wait and see what Auror's uncover. _

Hermione's eyes were enormous. The reporters today were insane! She wouldn't kill someone for giving her bad publicity; she had only killed during the war, and then it was kill or be killed. Things were different now, and killing someone would get her time in Azkaban. She had no desire to be there, so of course she wouldn't kill!

She moved and sat down on the sofa, brushing Malfoy. He had yet to move, but was peering at her curiously, practically able to see the gears turning in her head.

At least no one would be accusing Annabelle, who had been doing things against her will just as Hermione expected. The difference was that she knew Welsh had been killed by Rodolphus, whose escape from Azkaban had not been mentioned in a paper for weeks. Did everyone simply exclude the bloody thirsty Death Eater from his entire equation? The man was insane, so at least thinking of him as a suspect would make the paper seem to have some brains. But no, reporters were wasting time on gossip.

"It took them long enough to get that out in the open," Draco muttered, folding his arms. "I expected the newspapers to eat that story up, if for no other reason then it's a murder story."

She whipped her head around to stare at him. "Is that all you got from that article? People are speculating that you or I killed the man! We both know its absolute rubbish, but some people in this school take those articles seriously. What exactly do you propose we do about that," she snapped, thoroughly annoyed. It wasn't what people would say that worried her, just that it would all be a lot more drama then she could handle. There was enough already.

Draco shrugged, and that annoyed her too. "Ignore people. They will believe what they want- I should know. What the paper said is rubbish, and they are making stories up because there is nothing else to report."

She pointed a finger at him. "Stop making me sound like a helpless idiot. I could have answered that!"

"Then why did you ask me," he wondered, tilting his head just a bit.

"Because I'm frustrated," she snapped, standing and snatching up the newspaper that was really his. "You may not feel a whole lot of stress over things Malfoy, but if you have forgotten since last night, it's _my _life that's being messed with, and this is just going to give your fucking uncle something to chuckle about before he goes out of his way again to piss me off again."

That only made Draco chuckle. "Piss you off? I think it would just make him want to fuck with your life again Granger, since that's all my uncle seems to do." He didn't say anything else; afraid he would just anger the bookworm and end up with another broken nose. She looked livid already.

"Shut up Malfoy," she snapped again, turning away from him. He found that odd, until she started trying to leave the room.

"Granger, I don't think that's such a good idea." _You seem afraid to deal with people in general, yet you want to go out into the hall? Bloody fucking hell. _

"Oh yes Malfoy, because I care about what you think," she said, discarding their semi-peaceful evening the night before from her mind. He had been seemingly understanding then, but now he was back to being a git, and she didn't want that on top of her headache. Fuck him, he couldn't keep her in the room now. She wasn't sick, and she would do whatever she bloody pleased. Purposefully, she strode out of the room.

He unfortunately decided to follow her. "Granger, stop being a bitch and come back in the room. If Nott finds you I swear I will leave you out here to deal with him."

She wanted to chuckle at that, but couldn't. "You know Malfoy, I doubt that."

"What are you so worked up about? Its gossip and it'll pass so long as you don't give it too much thought. But you are and it's just going to bother you more."

Hermione started to say something again, but footsteps stopped her. Whipping her head around in the direction McGonagall must have gone not twenty minutes before, she saw Ron appear around the corner, but stop in his tracks.

Everything got very quiet and tense. Ron wasn't sure why the two were yelling at each other, but he thought he might just need to intervene. Hermione was tense now that Ron had appeared because she couldn't talk about this with him here, and didn't really want to deal with the ginger just then. He would want to talk, and she didn't have the patience to just then. Plus, Malfoy might end up acting like a cocky arsehole and saying something to Ron. She severely hoped not. Draco was just annoyed in general.

"Hello Ron," Hermione said finally, when it became apparent no one planned to talk. "Is there something I can help you with?"

He shuffled his feet, eyes looking between the two teens standing each other off. "Yes actually," he said, "Tonks is here to talk to both of you; she says its urgent."

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><p><strong>An: **Review! The more I get quickly the faster I update, as this update proves :)


	20. All of Me

**A/n:**Sorry for the late update! I got swamped with work. I'm not sure if the next update will be out around Thursday/Friday, next Monday, or next friday. It depends on how things go, but I want to get back to updating this closer to the end of the week because I work less. Anyways, thanks to my beta **JDeppIsMyLovely**!

Hope you enjoy it and please leave some feedback at the bottom so I know how its going :)

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><p><strong>All of Me<strong>

Hermione walked in front on the way to the Headmistresses office, Draco trailing just behind her. Ron didn't need to escort them there, but she couldn't figure out why he had been the messenger and not an owl. Didn't the Ministry usually like to keep matters such as this under wraps? It just seemed like they were being careless letting people who likely had nothing to do with this matter into the equation. Then again, Harry Ron and Hermione had been getting special treatment for a long time, and that thought only made her heart wrench. _Please tell me they kept my secrets secret… _

She was still irritated with the blond behind her, who had gotten under her skin. The stress of rumors on top of everything else was just something she didn't need. He may think that it was easy to blow things like that off but some people could really be affected by useless stories made up about them- people like her. Usually she would let nothing bother her, but with her parents deaths along with rumors and a man out to kill her, she wondered when she would snap. After all, Malfoy was probably waiting for the same thing.

It didn't take long to get to the Headmistresses office, and Hermione spoke the password both heads had been given at the beginning of the year. The hidden door opened, and both teens stepped in to see Nymphadora Tonks sitting in one of the chairs, the Headmistress staring out a window.

"There you two are," the Metamorphmagus said, smiling at both students. Her hair was a vibrant pink at the moment, which jumped off of her eyes. She looked completely at ease with her distant relative in the room, which surprised Hermione who had been under the impression that they hated one another (or at least were detached from each other). Draco immediately felt her emotions, noticing that she didn't seem in the least bit uncomfortable.

_Nymphadora never changes. _

"We were beginning to wonder if Ron had gotten into conversation with you Hermione," the pink haired female continued, ignoring the looks both teens were giving her. "Minerva thought we should send an owl, but I was already talking to him," she continued, focusing on Hermione. "He seemed a bit upset though."

The Gryffindor nodded. "We've been having a strange… relationship lately." Hermione knew the Metamorphmagus knew that the duo were not dating, and received only a raised eyebrow in response. Either she could come to her own conclusions or did not want to continue on this topic.

"Let's get down to business then," Tonks said, removing herself from the two chairs opposite the Headmistresses own. The younger woman beckoned for the teens to take a seat, and they both did unwillingly. Minerva, who had seemingly been either lost in her own world or listening in- who knew- turned and left without a word, looking rather worried.

"I'm sure you two have been trying to figure out why I am here," the Auror began. She pulled out something from her robes and placed it on the desk; it was the newspaper the two had been reading earlier. "This," she continued, pointing to Hermione's Healer's name, "is the reason I am here. Your Healer was killed in a very untraditional way."

"He was murdered," Draco said simply, bored. He had been to the apartment, he had seen what the man looked like, and so he didn't need anything to be broken down for them. "Someone brutally killed him, end of story."

Tonks gave him a pinched look. The two had not talked in over a month, not since he came to her seeking help. "Yes, he was." She turned her attention back to Hermione as she continued. "We have reason to believe the attack was not pinpointed on Welsh, but a message to one of his patients…" she trailed off, placing her hands delicately on the desk. She had played her cards, and now Hermione needed to play her own.

Draco watched the two curiously. Granger had masked her face into the best look of indifference possible, but her hands were constantly moving on her lap. Tonks may not be able to see it, but he could. The girl was nervous over something, and trying her best to seem calm. He only wondered how long that would last for her, because Tonks was giving her a stern look. Apparently the Auror knew more then she was letting on.

"That's unfortunate," she said at length, and Tonks sat back.

"Don't play with me Hermione," she said, shaking her head. "I read your file- your report. I know what happened last summer, so you don't need to go around hiding things. I already know this murder is associated with you- in fact I requested to come here and see you because I'm hoping to not have to be brutal." She now had both teens full attention. "But, if you won't work with me then I'm going to have to be mean. This is a very serious case and this is someone who needs to be caught again- so I really need you to corporate.

That put Draco off. The Ministry seemed to know quite a bit about his uncle's interference in Hermione's life- or at least, it seemed that they did- yet he still had no idea what was really going on. He had been brought up here too and yet they spoke in codes? That was bothersome, and made him want to simply leave and go read all of Granger's little secretive letters. _Then I would be able to follow this. _

Hermione was chewing her lip. Although Tonks was great, and had often been understanding when the Ministry had shown up at her house when word got around, but now she had to be gruff. The death of her Healer was obviously being kept under wraps for now, but if she was right they wanted her explanation of how her Healer had been acting recently, and if that could help them at all then hopefully they would leave her alone.

"Healer Welsh stopped coming to visit me a while ago," she began, "but I don't think it was always him."

Nymphadora's eyebrows drew together, and Malfoy leaned back in his chair as she began to spin her tale. She told the Auror about her Healer acting strangely, and how he had visited in the last few weeks, when he would've been dead before that. That comment made the woman's eyebrows rose a bit, and he wondered if she realized the paper had never specified when the doctor died. Perhaps the Auror would point that out to her, but she never did. She let Hermione tell her everything that had happened between herself and Welsh- well, nearly everything. She left out anything abusive and borderline pedophile, which only made the blond roll his eyes.

At the end of Hermione's explanation, Tonks was tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Interesting," she finally concluded, shutting an empty pad of paper. "I think this will help shed a bit of light on our case, but I will be owling you any additional questions Hermione."

"I expected it," she replied.

Tonks nodded, glancing between the two. "That's all I needed to ask you for the moment," she said, standing. "But I will owl you if anything else comes up perhaps involving this death, be it questions or simply things we figure out."

"Thank you," Hermione said, standing quickly. It was obvious to both the other wizards that she was anxious to leave, and Tonks glanced at her estranged relative, who was looking at Granger still. _He is quite talented if he was able to brew the potion enough to get Hermione back to looking like this. _

"Of course," Tonks said instead, nodding her head to both. "We'll be in touch."

The girl nodded, before making her hasty departure. If Tonks had come in questioning them, then that probably meant that he was on the move again, and that was never good. Biting her lip she entered the hallway.

Draco moved to follow her, when Tonks spoke again. "She looks better then I would've expected. You seem to have done a very good job with that potion."

He paused, and looked back at her. "Well I had to, or it would've just been more of a mess."

She laughed lightly, picking up the empty muggle notebook and walking towards him. "Perhaps it would've been more of a mess, but something tells me you didn't want to mess up that potion for more then just one reason."

"I don't know-"

"Hey," she said, holding up her hands. "I'm not here to question you about that, I'm here on Ministry business. I am only pointing out that you don't seem revolted by the idea of sitting beside her, which is new."

He scoffed. "So I grew up a bit, which has nothing to do with not wanting to mess up a bloody potion."

Smirking, she hit him on the arm. "Whatever you say Draco, so long as you believe that I suppose it doesn't matter what I say to you. Just watch her carefully."

The blond frowned. "Everyone keeps saying that!"

The smirk dropped off of Nymphadora's face. "As they should Draco; you don't know what you have gotten into."

"And I won't know if every person who brings it up speaks in riddles," he snapped, folding his arms as Tonks shook her head.

"Then don't push so much. I've heard that she is in need of friends at the moment, considering that Ron and Harry don't seem to be on good terms with her."

He raised an eyebrow. "Did you come here on Ministry business, or to figure out how Granger's life is going, because those questions you asked weren't what I expected?"

"A little of both," she replied, shoving the notebook into a coat pocket. "I didn't ask too many questions Draco because that girl can hardly face the answers herself. If you are so very curious about what all these riddles mean, you should try being nice- I'm sure she needs to drop everything on someone, and since she hates you she probably won't mind."

Draco rolled his eyes. "She isn't going to drop anything on me- she hates me. I've learned maybe two tings, and it's all been because that bloody Gryffindor cries like a Hufflepuff."

Tonks shook her head again. "And if you would wait around to figure out why she does that, you would understand. There are pieces of this puzzle no one understands yet, but we need to solve it. This is a dangerous game Draco."

"So I've noticed," he sneered.

She held up her hands yet again. "Like I said Draco, don't be mad at me. Try being a little nicer to her, and I'm sure she will talk to you. If her friends are separated from her for whatever reason, the emotions inside have been eating her alive because she has no one to really talk to. If you want your answers you will try it- and not be cruel to her in the meantime."

He narrowed his eyes. "Why are you helping me get answers if I'm always mean to her?"

"Because," she said, pursing her lips, "she needs someone to talk to, even if it has to be you."

"I'm touched," he mocked, rolling his eyes.

With a shrug, she brushed past him. "I have some things toy still look into at the Ministry, but I will be in touch like I said. If there is ever anything you feel you must alert me of just send me an owl."

He nodded stiffly, and she had nearly called out her destination when a thought came to him. "Tonks."

"Yes," she asked, tossing the powder back into the container she took it from. No use letting it all fall out of her fingers.

"You may consider inspecting Theodore Nott," he said, smirking. "He's a rather shady character."

* * *

><p>Draco left the office not long after finishing his conversation with Tonks, only to round a corner and find Weasley speaking with Granger. He nearly stepped out into the open when he heard their voices, and shrunk back against the wall behind a corner, where neither could see him.<p>

"-is it, Hermione? Something is up and you haven't told us, even before the blasted argument. What gives? Since when is Malfoy more involved in your life then we are?"

"Maybe because he hasn't blown up on me before I can even explain," she countered. "And who says he is more involved in my life? There could be multiple reasons why we were both called here- but you just jumped to your own conclusions again Ronald and didn't even wait for me to explain anything, did you?"

"Well I-"

"No, you didn't. You just began screaming at me all because of an article you read in the paper," she snapped. "Do you think I'm just going to fall into your arms Ron because you apologize and then demand to know everything? No, it doesn't work that way, and I don't feel like being screamed at again. I will tell you everything that's going on when I please, but for the moment I don't believe I owe you anything. When you can speak to me without calling me horrible names and accusing me, then we will talk, but otherwise I am through letting you yell at me just because you are angry. Talking works better you know." He heard no more words, just the footfalls of Granger's shoes as she left.

"Hermione-"

"No Ron," she said her voice much closer to him, "not now." She rounded the corner and practically ran into Malfoy, who stood there smirking down at her. Huffing, she shoved past the prick and continued on her way back to the dorm, Malfoy following.

Ron did not try to talk to her again, and turned back in the direction of his common room, grumbling about how to talk to Hermione now.

* * *

><p>The pair didn't say a word to each other on the way back to their dorm, and separated once they got there. Hermione headed to her room to do some deep thinking, and Malfoy went into his own room to do nearly the same thing.<p>

Sitting on his bed, he contemplated what to do. Thinking about things in his own head was quite difficult, and now he was beginning to get a headache whenever he attempted to figure out something new. Glancing at his desk he remembered the letter from his mother, and thought perhaps he should reply to that before he got back into thinking about the mess Granger was involved in- and whether or not she should even be trying to deal with his uncle. The man was rather insane, after all. Tapping his chin thoughtfully, he thought of the perfect person to owl.

Picking up a quill and parchment, he scrawled a quick note:

_Blaise~_

_Come up to my room when you are available, I have some things I need to enlighten you with._

_~Draco_

He handed his owl the short note, certain he could find his way. Once done he glanced at his mother's owl, which had decided to remain behind in his bedroom after dropping off the letter earlier. It had to be fairly important if the bird was waiting for a reply, instead of just letting the blond use his own owl to respond.

He picked up the letter and noticed the envelope felt a bit light. Breaking the seal he unfolded the note and immediately noticed that his mother's usually impeccable handwriting was a mess.

_Draco~_

_Over the Holidays I am going to have you spend a lot of time with your father. He is currently being watched all hours of the day buy two rotating Healers because… because he was not in his right mind a few days ago. Something went on but it's better now, so please don't worry dear. Just come home for the holidays and visit- please. _

_Please tell me you are not planning to bring Miss Granger to this house! Your father will be most unhappy with that, and any Pureblood who laid eyes on her would try to murder the poor girl. Draco, unless you want to be guarding a Mudblood through the whole of your holiday break, then I suggest you leave her there at Hogwarts or to go about with her friends. I truly do not care if the poor girl's friends have turned their backs on her- that Golden Trio nonsense will work its magic and at least two of her friends will come around. You have nothing to worry about with that girl and you shouldn't be worrying about her in the first place. _

_I will not tolerate her in my home and neither will your father, so why do you drag this out? There are plenty of sweet girls to attend with whom are Purebloods and would be marvelous company. Bring one of them to the Ball._

_Martha and Andrew Evans are two rumored muggles. They are in distant relation to Harry Potter's mother, Lily Evans, but truthfully I have no idea how much. I heard rumors some years ago that a Pureblood male soiled himself with the muggle woman and they gave birth to a half-blood boy, Andrew. I don't understand though how that really matters, because someone killed the pair last summer; when the muggle article talking about their deaths came out, many Purebloods heard about the end of them. I'm not entirely sure what happened, but it was no accident. Why do you even ask about them? They are not widely known. _

_I will let you know if anything further happens with your father._

_~Mother_

He reread the paragraph about Martha and Andrew Evans twice. They were related to Lily Evans, Potter's mother. Which meant that his uncle had an affair with a muggle woman long before his aunt Bellatrix died; oh, if the woman were alive today he was sure she would break out of Azkaban if only to reek her revenge on Rodolphus. He shuddered to think about just what she would do to the man.

But nonetheless, that was off topic. Rodolphus had an affair with Martha which spawned their half-blood son Andrew, who were both killed this past summer when Granger's apparent problems began, and his uncle started hunting her. So, did that mean Granger really was the killer? He had a hard time believing that, but could at least agree that she had probably been blamed or truly pissed when Rodolphus placed blame on her. She was either framed and in the wrong place at the wrong time, or she had gone out on a killing spree of the two- which just didn't sound like Granger at all.

_So what really did happen?_

He relaxed back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling. There was a pile of letters over on the opposite side of his desk addressed to Granger by his uncle that he could easily read, but Tonks words kept ringing through his head; _Try being a little nicer to her, and I'm sure she will talk to you. If her friends are separated from her for whatever reason, the emotions inside have been eating her alive because she has no one to really talk to. If you want your answers you will try it- and not be cruel to her in the meantime. _And unfortunately, he was beginning to feel a foreign emotion building in his chest:

Guilt. He felt guilty reading her private notes, and that was truly irritating. He was a Malfoy for Merlin's sake, so he should never feel that emotion, especially towards someone like her. But low and behold, it was there, eating at him through every passing minute as he fought with himself to just read the letters. But he found he could not reach out and grab them without that ugly emotion building up.

_Fucking Granger, _he thought, pushing himself up from the bed. Tossing his mother's letter back onto the desk, he shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way out of his bedroom, muttering. He stopped in front of her door, rolling his eyes and cursing everything he could think of, before he reached up and knocked a bit too hard on her door.

"Granger?"

* * *

><p>Hermione was glad Malfoy had not tried to talk to her when they got back to the dorm room; she needed time to think and she couldn't do that with Malfoy- or anyone at the moment- talking to her; it just wouldn't happen.<p>

So there she sat on her desk, a blank scroll of paper in front of her, book beneath, as she contemplated her next move. It was obvious that Rodolphus Lestrange was still out to get her, and while that made her bones chill and blood practically stop, she would not let him best her again; he had done that enough. The last time she got careless it cost her more then she liked to admit, and that couldn't happen again. What if he went after Ginny or Ron or Harry this time, just to spite her?

Running her fingers through tangled hair, she looked back down at the blank paper again. There were multiple ways she could handle this, and none of them seemed to be good enough ideas. The Ministry already knew of Rodolphus's escape from Azkaban, as well as his involvement in her life after the deaths of Martha and Andrew Evans, and they thought those were her fault, just like the muggle police did. She knew the Ministry was unsure what to do from here, because they lacked the details she knew and the man in question, who was still running rampod someplace. So no, the Ministry probably wouldn't be able to help her, at least not until she could find a way to draw him out of hiding that wouldn't result in her impending doom.

Truthfully she didn't want to think about this horrible man; she wanted to throw everything about him away and try to move on with her life, but she couldn't do that when she was still in danger. Besides, she had to be careful. If he could find another weak link in her life, like her parents, then he would go after that first; after all, you always attack close to the heart.

_So maybe its better my friends temporarily won't talk to me; at least this way there is less of a chance that they will be in constant danger. I mean, I had assumed he could not touch me in Hogwarts but he got in more then once by posing as someone else… is anywhere safe? _

Instinctively, she glanced over at her window to make sure it was locked. After all, Rodolphus had somehow disappeared by jumping out of that window- although she knew very well it could not have been apparition, the school would not allow that. Theo Nott had attempted the same feat, and made it look as though he apparated when Hermione knew it had to be some other spell, because it was impossible to do so here. The problem was, what had they used? If some sort of placement charm allowed the caster to relocate to a nearby location or something, that could be very dangerous, not only in her situation but to the school in general.

She sighed; why did life have to be so complicated? Reaching under her pillow she pulled out what remained of her mother's bandana, holding it close. She really didn't know what to do just then, nor how to go about things.

A banging on her door startled her, and for a moment she worried who it was until a voice spoke. "Granger?" _Oh, it's only Malfoy. _Rolling up the scroll she had never even written on, she placed it back on her desk along with the quill, shoving the last bit of the bandana deeply into her pocket. Although a part of her didn't want to, she opened the door and looked up at him.

"Malfoy?" she replied, wondering what he could want.

The first thing he noted were the few tear streaks on her face, and found that odd. It seemed Granger always tried to make herself presentable before greeting him, yet there she was looking like she had not slept in days, and had just finished crying. Maybe she was thinking about things again, and he could use that to his advantage.

"Would you like some tea," he asked at length, begrudgingly.

She blinked several times, not quite sure what he had just said. Wasn't he there to ruin her day, or ask her more of those tedious questions, or perhaps alert her of someone else at the door? But no, he was just offering her tea, and that was the strangest thing; when did Malfoy offer anyone anything unless he wanted something.

_Maybe he really is going to pester me for answers. _Despite that lingering fear of more things the git would want answered, it would be her only distraction from the thoughts in her head- if only for a few minutes. "Tea would be nice," she said slowly, nodding.

The nodded back curtly, before spinning on his heel and walking off, wondering what the hell possessed him to ask that question. It was not something he wanted to do, drink tea with Granger and talk about nothing, but it seemed he would be. Walking into the kitchen, he hoped he would at least get something answered.

Hermione however was moving things around in her room, so that perhaps it seemed a bit less messy. She wanted to be able to fall asleep when she was done talking with Malfoy, and barely remembered to hide the letters before going into the living room. She didn't remember to wear a long shirt, however.

It didn't take long before the tea was ready, and he sat opposite her on the sofa. Neither spoke for a time, uncertain what to say, but it was Hermione surprisingly who spoke first.

"The tea is good," she tried.

He scoffed. "Tea is simple to make Granger, it's nothing amazing."

"Well, sorry for being nice," she replied, rolling her eyes. "But I wouldn't expect you to understand how to be nice."

"Of course not," he sneered, and opened his mouth to make a rude comment, but stopped himself. They always had the same arguments, and it got tiring. So instead of commenting, he finished his tea and set the cup back on the table, leaning into the sofa.

It grew quiet again.

"So how do you plan to deal with my uncle," Draco asked at length when he heard the soft clink of Hermione's glass touching the table as well. "I mean, he is an arse, and a difficult one at that, so good luck dealing with him."

She rolled her eyes, but he didn't see his because he kept his firmly shut. "I think that's my business, not yours."

He chuckled, and turned his head on the back of the sofa to face hers, eyes opening. "Granger, I know my uncle far better then you do, and any head on attacks will do you no good. He's rather tricky, which I'm sure you-" He stopped talking, eyebrows drawing together as something caught his eye.

At first she had no idea what had caught his attention, until she looked down and realized the words on her arm were visible again, he much larger word 'failed' jumping out. Tentively, he reached out and touched the skin, and if it were under different circumstances her eyes may have popped out of her head.

"You know there are ways to make that scar less obnoxious," he said, eyes moving back up to meet hers. "I'm sure you know a few, actually."

She pulled her arms gently from his grip. "I do, but perhaps I don't want to heal it."

He scoffed, "Why ever would you want to keep it looking like that? It won't go away, but you could make it so the lines were thin and healed, and less blatantly obvious. You can't possibly want something like that glaring up at you."

"Perhaps I do," she replied, standing. "I think I'm going to take a nap Malfoy; the last couple days have been long." She moved to walk to her bedroom but he pulled her back down onto the couch again.

"Oh please Granger, I think you are looking for an excuse so that you don't have to talk about this anymore," he said, tracing the scar with the tip of his wand slowly. He had pulled her down quickly, determined to make his point, and didn't even bother feeling uncomfortable that her back was flush against his left arm, so he was leaning into her to trace the scar. However strange the position would normally be for the pair was lost as he played with the old wounds.

She tried to rip her arm away. "Malfoy quit!"

He relented some, and she quickly squirmed away so there was practically a cushion between them. She sat facing him again, although her hand was clamped firmly over the word. "Sorry," he said, rolling his eyes. "I didn't know it would bother you so very much.

Hermione shook her head. "It's not that it bothers me Malfoy, it's that it sometimes hurts if you apply to much pressure to the spot."

He frowned, and reached out to grab her arm again, only to have her swat his hand away. Sighing, he leaned back on the couch. "You know that means there's dark magic still imbedded in there. You should've had someone remove that ages ago. If you wait to long the magic grows into your bones and can't be removed."

She scoffed. "I know that, and I had an appointment scheduled a while ago to do just that, but other things came up."

"Like?"

She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to be sharing all of this with him, but kept going nonetheless, "Cancer."

Draco glanced away from her, "Ah."

"Yes 'ah'," she agreed, standing again. "Like I said before Malfoy, I'm going to take a nap."

He nodded, not glancing back at her as he rested back against the couch again, "Alright Granger, but you better get that looked at soon before you're out of time."

She didn't respond, just turned quickly and walked into her room, the same thought passing through her head the entire time, _I'm not sure I have anymore time to deal with this. I was more concerned with my life, and I think my time to remove the magic maybe up._

Still though, she could always ask when she got that note from the hospital wing. Keeping this pain really wasn't something she wanted, and that would be the best time to tell someone. Besides, St. Mungo's had sent her enough mail complaining about her missed appointment, so she should have no problem getting in.

* * *

><p>Barely an hour later, the Head's dorm opened to reveal Blaise Zabini. He noted that his blond companion was nowhere in the main room to be seen, and decided the lazy arse must still be in his room. Walking to the door, he shoved it open to find the blond sitting at his desk, apparently in thought.<p>

"Blaise," he said not glancing up.

The Italian noted this, completely confused. Since when did Malfoy study during the middle of the day? "Draco," the Slytherin replied hesitantly, wondering if he should be taking his friend to the hospital ward. Maybe too many hours up there in the stale dorm rooms had gotten to the blonds head. "Are you alright mate?"

"Hardly," the blond snapped, tossing a bundle of letters onto the floor. "Do you know what those are," he snapped, standing and shoving the chair hard enough to tip over.

Blaise raised an eyebrow. "Letters?"

"Not just letters," the blond said, running a hand through his hair, "They're twisted, manipulating, terrible things!"

"Do you need to go to the hospital wing," Zabini asked, deciding his earlier assumption about Malfoy's sanity had been correct.

The blond gave him a pointed look. "No I don't need to go to the hospital wing! What I need to do is read those, but I'm beginning to regret it."

"What are you going on about Draco," Blaise asked, thoroughly confused. He reached down and picked up the only letter that was not in an envelope, and began reading. _Mudblood~ _

"You're reading the wrong letter," Draco cut in, before his friend even had time to read anything good. That's the third letter; letter one is now someplace in that pile."

Instead of searching, Zabini dropped the letter back into the heap on the floor and folded his arms. "Malfoy, what's wrong with you? You're acting strange."

Sighing, the blond sat heavily on his bed and ran a hand over his face, "Those aren't my letters, before you ask- they're Grangers, and no, I haven't read all of them." The Italian was glaring at him. "What?"

"But you did steal them?"

"Well of course I stole them! I needed to figure out Granger's secrets."

He frowned. "Why don't you just ask her? I mean, Granger isn't scary or anything, but if she doesn't want you knowing her secrets you should probably stay out of them."

"Don't make me feel bad for having those," he snapped, wandlessly collecting the letters and replacing them neatly onto his desk. "It's actually rather important that I read them."

"And why is that?"

He pursed his lips. He had asked Blaise to come up there after all to help him figure things out, but he knew Granger didn't want people knowing what happened to her. So, what could he tell Blaise?

"Maybe I didn't start far enough back in the story…" He leaned forwards a bit, ready to have some help in this confusing matter.

_Now I wonder if Granger will skin me alive for this?_

* * *

><p><strong>An:**Any thoughts?


	21. You Used to Captivate Me

**A/n: **So, I'm a day late, but I think it's worth it. This chapter covers over two weeks (read and see) and by the end you know a bit converning Pansy, and a bit of what happened to Hermione. We even get a bit touchy with emotions at the end. Surprisingly, this was exceptionally fun to write! Please keep reviewing! I only know how well things are going if you tell me, but hell, everyone probably says that…

Add me on facebook if you desire! The link is at the top of my profile! Thanks to my beta, **JDeppIsMyLovely**, and enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>You Used to Captivate Me<strong>

* * *

><p>Blaise stared at him for a long time after he had finished before speaking. "Fuck," he said, before standing and pacing. "You got yourself into a lot of shit Malfoy, you know that?"<p>

Draco rolled his eyes, in the same spot at his desk he had been over an hour ago when he began explaining to Blaise everything that was going on. "You think Zabini? I've been realizing that everyday. Every fucking time I turn around there is something new, something I missed. The girl's a bloody mess every time I look at her. She just keeps crumbling as new things happen; its pathetic."

"It's not necessarily pathetic Draco," his friend said, frowning, "she's obviously been through a lot, and you being an arse about it can't be helping. Whatever problems she is having, you have gotten yourself pulled into."

The blond scowled. "I have not been pulled into anything. I am in charge of her is all."

"Oh please, stop trying to cover over things with that lame excuse Malfoy. You know as well as I do that your possessions have never met that much to you, even when you've had bloody women wrapped around your finger. You're taking extra care with her, even though you don't particularly have to, and being helpful isn't you. So what is it Malfoy? What's going on?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Stop asking questions."

The Italian clicked his tongue. "Whatever, but I still think there is something there."

The pair talked a few more minutes before Blaise had to go, leaving behind a shaken Draco. What Zabini had been hinting at was too scary to ever consider- he did not care for the Mudblood, much less have feelings! It was out of the question! Unsure what to do with the thoughts swirling in his head, he snatched up the letter that had been taken from Theo, practically tearing the paper open. He would read anything if it meant a distraction from the pulsing feelings that were now bouncing off each other in his head.

The letter was not nearly as long as he had thought:

_Rodolphus~_

_I'm going to talk to her tonight about visiting the scene. I cannot believe the girl dared to go to his home, when she had to have known what you had done. The Mudblood gets stupider by the day. The only obstacle that I can think of might be Malfoy, for he has been acting strangely protective of the girl each time I visit. I do not know what that is about, but she is quite a bit healthier. I will owl you once I have extracted the reaction from her._

_~T. _

The blond raised an eyebrow. It was curious that Theo did not sign his entire name, while he wrote out Draco's uncle's. After all, it was Rodolphus who was on the run from the Ministry, not Nott. _Interesting. _

The other thing that really stuck out to Malfoy was how he spoke of extracting a reaction. _A reaction to what?_ He had come and burned that fucking bandana of hers, and caused the girl to sob. Perhaps that was the intent? Did Lestrange somehow know the item was important to her, or was that a lucky guess? The bit about him supposedly knowing at least Granger had been to that apartment wasn't surprising, because he distinctly remembered her hiding from someone walking down the street, and sure it had to be Rodolphus. Nott had been in the alley, so Rodolphus was the only other logical person.

So how did this help him? Tapping his chin thoughtfully, he reread the letter again.

* * *

><p>November fourteen sun was shining through Hermione's drapes when she awoke the following morning. The previous days events echoed through her mind as she stood and stretched, key parts replaying in her minds eye. Merlin, things were just getting more and more difficult, weren't they?<p>

As she began dressing for the day, her mind changed directions from thoughts about things that had been happening in the dorm room to the fact that she would soon be able to attend classes again. Thanks to Malfoy _occasionally _remembering to retrieve their schoolwork, she knew she was pretty much caught up in everything she had missed, and that was perfect. As soon as she could cruise through the halls again, she would need to formulate a plan to draw Rodolphus close to Hogwarts.

Now, that seemed to be a silly thing to do, for he should be the very last person she ever wants to see, but that was beside the fact; they still had unsettled business and no matter how much the idea of seeing him made her stomach bubble, it was necessary. If she ever planned to have peace in her life again, she would have to face him one more time, and let things happen as they would. She wasn't even sure she would live if she went to see the sadistic man, but was it really living if she hid away either?

_Guess I'll need a fairly good plan. _She sighed at that thought, knowing it was time to buckle down and stop delaying what had to happen. As she pulled on her trousers, a thought popped into her head; Malfoy would be a problem. He knew too much as it was, and he was going to keep pushing for information whether or not it concerned him. The prick was just like that; he had to know everything, whether or not it actually applied to him.

Hermione groaned. That would make things quite a bit harder.

* * *

><p>Draco tossed the letter aside. Tonks had kept her end of the bargain- much to the blonds surprise- and had owled him to inform the blond that yes Theo Nott had been taken into questioning, but they were not entirely sure what to be asking him; it was obvious the boy was involved in something dangerous, but it was a matter of figuring out just what. So the blond had scribbled a list of short questions, circling around the same point, and sent it off. They would surely discover Theo's connection to his escaped uncle before they were through. Perhaps that would shed some light on why Lestrange was going after Hogwarts students. What could he possibly want?<p>

Pushing thoughts of the man from his mind, the blond turned his attention back to his mother's letter, the one he had ignored yesterday. Having already read it, he picked up a quill and quickly began scribbling a reply:

_Mother~_

_What happened with father? Mother I told you before that it's not safe to have him with you there, especially with you always being home alone. Did he harm you? I can't stand this anymore- he needs to be put away. If he hurt you- and don't lie if he did mother, you are not the best at it- then that is far enough and he needs to be at St. Mungo's. You are endangering your life and it worries me. I will be home for the holidays so stop worrying; but father should be long gone by then, if you plan on living to see your lovely Christmas Ball._

_Enough with the topic of Granger; it's already been settled. I will see to it myself that _no one _harms her._

_I was simply curious about the two- Theo Nott brought it up in conversation at lunch the other day and I was interested. Thank you for shedding light on the subject. If anything truly horrible happens with father I'll talk with the Headmistress and come home for a few days. Please mother, be safe._

_~Draco_

Giving the letter to his bird, he opened the bedroom window and let him fly out. Watching the dark feathers blur into the blue of the sky as he headed off towards Malfoy Manor, Draco sighed. There was just over a month before he would be stealing Granger away for the holidays, and facing his mother's wrath. She may have changed since the war, but the racism she had grown up with still resided deep in her bones, and bringing the Gryffindor to his ancestral home would not go over well; he was already trying to prepare for the confrontation.

If he could simply get Granger into the home without any mishaps- like his father appearing- then life would be okay. Granger needed to be settled before they ever went to see Lucius. It would already be a pain in the arse to get her there willingly.

He sighed, collapsing back onto the bed. Nothing was going to get any easier for a while, and it seemed like time was rushing by; everything was so complicated with his life, his family, and on top of all of that Granger's issues were slowly beginning to weigh him down.

_Hopefully once Christmas passes I won't have to deal with any of this anymore._

* * *

><p>Two weeks later Hermione was walking out of Arithmancy class, Neville at her side. Time seemed to have flown by lately, and the past two weeks had been consumed in nothing but getting back to classes and attempting to catch up on everything.<p>

At least, that's all she liked to acknowledge.

Harry, Ginny and Ron were still keeping their distances a bit. They were not hostile at all- even friendly when she and Neville would sit down with them for meals- but there was an obvious wedge there that was now between her and the three people she was closest to. So far, the topic from weeks ago had been ignored, but it was only a matter of time before the subject would rear its ugly head and the argument that was building would begin.

She hoped it didn't happen until after the holidays, when hopefully a few things would be cleared up. After all, she could only imagine what she would have to say to get out of going to the Weasley's that holiday break.

But Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had acknowledged the absence of the Head Boy and Girl the last month, and in the two students absences had spun an abundance of outrageous rumors. Hermione had stopped counting how many ridiculous things she had been questioned about, from whether or not she was sleeping with Malfoy to if he had tried to kill her one night and she had only just escaped? Really, the student body needed something else to do then wonder about them, because the newspaper had been blabbing things to the entire community, so why were there students asking her questions containing things that didn't even follow what those articles had spoke of.

There had been multiple questions about what the Daily Prophet columnists had reported, and although there were bits of facts here and there in the two things published about Hermione and Draco, she always refused to answer questions in any sort of manner that actually gave the students another wave of gossip. She wasn't sure however if Draco was feeding information to anyone, and had yet to even ask him. Since they had stopped spending everyday in the dorm, they had rarely spoken, and she wasn't quite sure if she was happy about that or not.

And that thought was just plain terrifying.

Hermione's plans so far about dealing with Rodolphus though had been put on hold. She had things to catch up with and a reputation to uphold, otherwise curious spectators may start asking her horrible questions, and that was something she couldn't deal with.

It had been over two weeks since anyone had seen eye or ear of Theo either, and the brunette was beginning to wonder why. Padding her way down the hallway towards her next class, Hermione bid Neville goodbye, before rounding a corner and spotting her blond roommate.

He looked so at ease with life, surrounded by Pureblood gits. She had to roll her eyes, for they were all women. Was he really missed that much? Making her way past him, a head movement caught her attention and she looked up at him. He was jerking his head, eyes locked with hers, indicating to something. Her eyes widened slightly as she realized he was trying to invite her into the hidden alcove just down the hall, and wondered exactly what on earth was going on; they hadn't spoken a lot recently, so what could he want?

_This is strange; we don't really have anything to talk about… head's duties are a meeting in the common room on Friday's, and he wouldn't need us to be hidden to discuss that, so what is it? _Her mind reeled as she snapped her head away, only to catch him moving away from his friends out of the corners of her eyes, and she knew immediately where he was going.

_Oh Merlin, that git is never going to get out of my life, is he? _With an unhappy sigh, she turned and headed to the place she was certain he wanted to meet, wondering if this would make her late for her next hour.

Hermione stepped gingerly into the alcove, noting that Malfoy was pacing back and forth relentlessly. Dropping her bag, she crossed her arms and waited to be acknowledged. It took no time at all.

"Granger," he said, stepping over to her. He stopped just in front of her, and she frowned at his close proximity, his face clouded.

"Malfoy," she replied, when it appeared he would not be continuing. "Something I can do for you?"

He pursed his lips, then took a step away and sat down in the small space, his back against the wall. He looked up at her expectantly, and waited for her to sit down. Once she did, he pulled a slip of paper for his pocket and handed it to her.

"That came for me today."

The Gryffindor frowned. "So what does that have to do with me?"

The blond looked over at her from the corners of his eyes, a scowl plastered on his face. "Just read the fucking paper."

She rolled her eyes at his language, but nonetheless unfolded the note and read the short note:

_Draco~_

_Why are you playing with fire?_

_Get away from her Draco- or my lesson to her may hurt you as well. Stop associating with that Mudblood and focus your attention elsewhere, like your dear father. The girl is someone I need to handle, and you are getting in the way._

_~The Mudblood's Dear Friend _

She crumbled the letter. "He acts as though you don't know anything about my situation," she whispers.

Draco chuckled. "Are you saying that he knows I have been helping you? He knows I'm acting '_a bit protective_'," he mocks, rolling his eyes, "but the fact that he is still sending letters is what bothers me. He makes it sound as though he is planning something, you know."

She cringed. "Yes, it does."

He glanced down at her. It had been a while since anything about this matter had been discussed. The fact that he still knew so little was terribly irritating, but demanding information in an alcove would do no good. He needed to question her someplace else, some other time, when she didn't have anything else to do but answer; he needed to get her when she was vulnerable.

_You can be a complete bastard after all Draco. _Inwardly smirking, he took back the letter, "I just though you should know, since you are oh so persistent to go after this man."

"He killed my parents," she said evenly, and he had to whip his head around to look at her. The only other time she had ever spoken about that, she had been sobbing. _Apparently two weeks let the girl heel? Ha! I doubt it, but I doubt this Mudblood would cry in a place like this anyways. She will wait until we get back to the room, before her waterworks start. _

"- something about it," she said, and he only caught the tail end of whatever it had been. "I can't just let him go and continue to… hurt, people," she said, her voice wavering.

_Ah, vulnerability. _It seemed too easy to simply get her to talk now, but fuck, he had said so himself that he needed to wait until she was vulnerable, and whenever Granger's voice wavered or cracked, that was usually a good hint that she was hurting in some way. "So how else did he hurt you," the blond asked evenly, looking into her eyes. He knew damn well there was more to her story then she had been letting on, or ever cared to admit.

Her gaze hardened, and she abruptly stood. "You always have to push for answers, don't you," she snapped, walking over and snatching up her bag. "Merlin Malfoy, you can be such a bloody arse sometimes." Before he could comment, she turned and left the alcove, just as the bell for their next hour rang.

The blond scowled. It had been hard enough getting her to follow him in there to show her the note, but it was harder to get the girl to reveal anything about what really happened between herself and Rodolphus. Why did she have to be so stingy? Maybe Blaise had been right- maybe Draco would help if he had some sort of idea about what was really going on. Knowing that his uncle had killed Granger's parents because of something she did to Andrew and Martha Evans really wasn't much to go on.

He banged his head against the wall. _Jus wait until the holidays Granger; you'll have no choice but to answer my questions, if you plan to get anywhere in the Manor. _

_Oh yeah, perhaps I should remind her of that soon… _He smirked, wondering what kind of rise he could get out of her for that, and shoved the paper into his bag. _If I'm lucky, she'll snap if I keep pushing._

* * *

><p>They did not talk again that day. By Thursday the 29, Hermione had decided on a plan of action for Rodolphus, and all she could hope for was even an ounce of alone time during the day to send off her owl. If he could owl them, she should be able to send an owl to find him, right?<p>

_One can only hope. _She gulped, fear building in her chest as she considered her plan. It would be terribly risky, but all she could do was try. After all, Malfoy Manor would be the perfect setting, and this would be the only benefit about going.

Now she was only left to wonder when Malfoy would begin badgering her about that too. Stuffing her things into her bag for the day, she walked to the door, intent on getting to the Great Hall and filling her starved stomach.

Open the door she nearly ran over Pansy. Surprised by the unusual presence of the girl, she took a step back, wondering what she could be doing there.

"Hello Granger," the Slytherin said, surprising her. Wasn't Pansy known for being hostile. "May I come in?"

"Sure," Hermione replied, not sure what to do about Pansy's behavior. She would feel a lot more comfortable if the girl were sneering and spitting insults at her. "I'll go get Malfoy-"

"Actually," she cut in, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "I came to see you."

Now the Gryffindor was certain she was still asleep. Reaching up and pinching herself, she frowned when she realized she wasn't. "Excuse me," she asked, setting her bag down.

"Don't look so surprised," the girl replied, frowning, "it's not as though I've ever been truly cruel to you," she continued, sitting daintily on the sofa.

_You nearly turned on of my best friends over to Voldemort. _Despite the pang in her chest at the thought of Harry, and her other friends who were currently ignoring her, she was able to fight the irritation and the comments down enough to respond somewhat politely. "I suppose that's true. So what do you want Parkinson?"

"Touche," the girl said, rolling her eyes. "I was actually sent by Draco's mother- she owled me. Are you really coming with him to the Manor for the holidays," she asked, sounding almost worried.

_How the hell did she end up being the first one to mention this? _"Does it matter," she asked, not quite sure how she was supposed to respond. If Narcissa Malfoy was unhappy with this idea, she thought it might be better to leave to Draco to sort out, instead of making it harder by answering Pansy's questions.

"Of course it matters," she said, sounding alarmed. "Do you even realize how may Pureblood families will be at the Malfoy's for Narcissa's Christmas Ball? Any one of them who lays eyes on you will immediately try to kill you!"

_Really now? I would never expect that kind of reaction from a group of people who are known for being narrow-minded and often violent. _"Then I'm sure I can hex them just as well," she replied, hoping the girl would drop this subject. Why did she even care? "It's not like I've never gone head to head with people who would like nothing more then to kill me."

Parkinson's expression dropped, and although Hermione was uncertain whether or not that was a good thing, she hoped it would at least get the girl to leave. "I'm trying to help you Granger," she said at length, standing. Her eyes locked on something over the girl's head, and just then the Gryffindor didn't acknowledge this. "He's setting you up to die."

"Really Pansy I think that's a bit dramatic," came the short reply, and the brunette glanced behind her to spot Malfoy, standing straight up in his doorway. _So that was what she turned her attention to. _"If I were setting her up to die, don't you think I would've let events play out instead of assisting?"

Hermione frowned, wondering what Malfoy was hinting at. "I suppose its possible," the other girl said, and she looked back in time to see Parkinson stand. "I am simply trying to prepare her, something I am sure you would never bother to do."

He cocked an eyebrow, ignoring the Gryffindor standing between them now. "And what makes you think that?"

She rolled her eyes, "Because you went through with all of this, even despite what I told you."

Draco wet his lips. He knew she was referring to past events, and although he knew she was completely against what he was doing, it couldn't be helped yet. They would just have to discuss this topic at a different time, when Granger wasn't seated in between them, looking quite lost. "There's more to this game, and you know that, but do you really want to get into this now Parkinson?"

She pursed her lips, and in that moment Malfoy duly noted that he now had Granger's full attention. "We'll talk later," Parkinson hissed, before hastily making her way out of the room. As the door slammed shut, he groaned; already he could imagine Blaise getting at him later for that. _Why do I put myself in these situations?_

Glancing down, he realized Granger was still staring at him. "What?"

"What were you two going on about," she asked, cocking her head. Merlin, did she always have to ask questions?

"Nothing," he muttered, moving to walk past the sofa towards the kitchen, but she grabbed his arm in the process. "Now what?"

"You can't shut me out either Malfoy," she said, standing and keeping ahold of his wrist, "if you expect me to _explain _my secrets to you its not going to be a one sided deal; you have to tell me things too."

He laughed. "And since when did you decide this?" Jerking his arm away, he grabbed her chin and smirked. "Let's get something straight Granger; I owe you _nothing_. Whatever I do to assist you now is purely from the good of my heart and yes, will usually have strings attached. But what you are asking about isn't even my secret to share, and I won't have the wrath of Pansy after me for telling you."

She shoved him away, and he let go of her chin, apparently not even concerned about keeping a hold of her. When she didn't say anything, he smirked, deciding the conversation was over and made his way to the kitchen again.

"She was in the same sort of place I am in now, wasn't she," Hermione asked, and he stopped in his tracks, not turning to look at her. When she was met with silence, she continued on. "Someone made Pansy a slave at some point in her life, didn't they? Someone-"

"Shut _up_ Granger," he hissed, gripping the doorframe, "you don't know what you are talking about."

"I know perfectly," she said confidently, a smile playing at her lips. His unease was enough to her to prove to her that she was right. "Parkinson is superficial, and cares about no one but herself. That's why she is telling me to not go, so I'll stand up to you. You said you have control of me that I _have _to do what you say, and she is warning me of what will happen so that maybe I can save myself. And like I said, the only reason I can see her doing that is if she knows the feeling of being _controlled_." She spit the last word out angrily, not happy to acknowledge the fact.

He whirled around. "Would you stop talking? You don't know what you are talking about!"

She placed her hands on her hips. "I think I know better then you Malfoy; I'm in her position, and you are in the puppet master's. I should know better then you!"

In an instant, he had her pinned to the nearby wall, his face almost against hers, his body pressed tightly to her, keeping her in place. The situation was familiarly terrifying, but this was Malfoy, and he would not harm her like Rodolphus. "You don't," he spat, making sure she was looking into his eyes. "It may come as a surprise to you, but you are not the only one with hardships in your life."

"You can't imagine my hardships!"

He scoffed. "I helped you Granger," he said, watching her closely, "I shouldn't have to imagine. Tell me what goes on in your stupid little life so I can stop worrying about it already!"

"Oh, you worry," she asked, in a tone that was mocking instead of sincere, "_now _I feel obliged to tell you my secrets. It may come as a surprise to _you_, Malfoy, but not everyone feels like they must give you everything- like answers. You're no more special then me, despite what you think your blood tells you. You push me to tell you things that bother me, while you keep your entire home life a secret of your own. Why should I enlighten you? Why should I tell you anything when I surviving before without speaking to anyone? I may have been dying, but I was coping how I could. You pushing me everyday to tell you about my summer does me no good, and just makes me wonder why I was ever stupid enough to take you up on your offer. I've known you distantly for seven years, and you always twist things into your favor no matter what. Helping me was just another thing to benefit you, wasn't it? Your daddy is insane and it was time to dig your claws into some smart, desperate soul in order to try and bring peace to your household. I do pay attention Malfoy; I know Lucius is ill, and you said so yourself that I am to help him. I refuse to tell you anything because that means I am just feeding more things to you to throw back at me later!"

She felt better. Rambling on to Malfoy, screaming up into his face, felt good. If he ever wanted to know anything, something had to give on his end too.

However, Malfoy felt ready to beat her face in. The fucking nerve of the girl! How dare she accuse him of anything! And talking about his father… to keep himself from doing something he would regret, he grabbed the collar of her shirt and tossed her onto the nearby sofa, away from his reach, before punching the wall.

"Quit fucking talking! Forgive me Granger, for trying to do something to appease my mother! I am oh so sorry I keep my personal life away from you, since mine didn't need your assistance to begin with! What will you do when you come to the Manor? Tell my mother how conniving I am before going to see my father, so you can laugh at my situation? I wouldn't laugh much- since my parents are still alive!"

His comment shook her to the core, for he was playing dirty now, trying to hit her in the most vulnerable, sensitive spots of her soul. But for just now, she couldn't worry about that. He would not have the last word, and it felt quite lovely to be screaming at the prick. "My parents might be gone, but at least my family is not as messed up as yours!"

"I have a family," he said arrogantly, turning and getting back in her face, "that's more then you can say!"

She scooted away from him, his words finally cutting deep. "Yes, you have a family," she relented, throwing her head back on the sofa, "a twisted, sadistic family."

"We are not all sick, bloody thirsty Death Eaters," he snapped, through with this conversation. Did she always have to push?

Hermione jumped up, meeting his eyes again. "Your right," she screamed, "because only some of you find it fun!" She reached a hand down to the hem of her shirt, and for a moment Draco was thoroughly confused, until she jerked the hem up, revealing something he hadn't been expecting.

"Are you happy now," she screamed, ignoring the fact that his eyes never moved from her middle, "are you happy to get your fucking answer? That's what your bloody uncle did; he tortured me and left me for dead!"

* * *

><p><strong>An: **Thoughts?


	22. By Your Resonating Light

**A/n**: Woohoo 500+ reviews! That's spectacular you guys, you make me feel great :) Thanks for all the feedback (good or not, it's helpful) and I hope you like this chapter too. And if you don't mind, please keep reviewing the chapters! Since this is so long, it lets me know how its going :)

Please note, school starts up here soon in a weekish time, and after that updating will be harder, so I apologize in advance! I wouldn't use this as an excuse usually to not update, but I have school on top of work on top of Dance classes, so it is actually quite a bit, you know?

Add me on facebook if you desire! The link is at the top of my profile! Thanks to my beta, **JDeppIsMyLovely**, and enjoy!

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><p><strong>By Your Resonating Light<strong>

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><p><em>That's what your bloody uncle did; he tortured me and left me for dead!"<em>

Once Hermione finished screaming, it grew quiet in the dorm. She soon felt uncomfortable under Malfoy's intense gaze. Since the moment she jerked her shirt up, his eyes had not moved from her middle. He slowly extended a hand to touch the once smooth skin, but she scooted back.

"What are you doing," she breathed, alarmed. Why had she done that? Why had she pulled her shirt up and bared her middle to him? Why was she showing him what she hid?

He didn't appear to be listening though, and lightly looped an arm around her back, gently holding her in place with one arm, while his opposite hand moved to trace a line on her skin. She didn't even try to protest; she didn't know what to think of his behavior. This was Malfoy after all- shouldn't he be revolted or something?

But no, instead of scowling and turning away, he was holding her lightly, letting his fingers trace over the healed scars that marred her body. The feeling of discomfort set in again and she tried to move back, but he just gripped her tighter, looking into her eyes.

"He did this to you," he breathed, as though not believing his own words. How could someone sit there and torture another human being like this? The scars he could see were all long and looped, like he had been scarring deep into her soul, using a wand instead of a knife.

"Who else would," she asked, attempting to lighten the suddenly serious mood. Why did he have to be looking down at her with that dark silvery gaze? His expression was unreadable, but a part of her wondered if she wished to understand what he was thinking at all.

Hermione's mind jumped back to a different question; why was he holding her?

"Malfoy," she began to say, but cut off when he grabbed her chin lightly. Why was he suddenly being gentle?

"Why in Merlin's name do you still have these," he breathed, eyes dancing back to the vivid marks, "When it is so easy to use a spell and simply remove the lines?"

Something about his gaze was alarming. He looked- but it was fairly impossible for Malfoy to have that emotion- but, horrified. Really, this is what horrifies him? They had found a body not so long ago, and nearly been killed by a nurse under a spell, but the marks on her body make his eyes grow large? _Something has to be wrong here._

Hermione pursed her lips, again. "It's not that simple," she said, twisting out of his grip as she pulled her shirt back down into its rightful position. The near concern in his voice was unsettling, and at that moment she wished she hadn't been so rash; now he would just push more, wouldn't he? Unsure how to respond, she attempted to hurry to her room.

He stopped her at the door, not by grabbing her like usual and restraining her, but by hurrying past the fast walking girl and planting himself in the doorway, leaning his slender body against the doorframe. "Granger," he said, lightly, looking into her eyes- it was the look that still unsettled her, "Stop running from your problems."

"This isn't a _problem_ Malfoy," she said, indicating to her entire, clothed body. It was only then that his mind took into account the possibility that there were possibly scars elsewhere. "It's the reality of what- or what happened," she continued, stumbling over her words, "and nothing is going to change that."

He inclined his head towards her, and she became confused as to what that meant. "You have a wand Granger, and as I told you once before, those scars don't have to be an ugly reminder on your skin."

She balled up her fists, but it wasn't out of anger, more for control. She didn't want to explain this to him, because he could be a prick. Yet, a part of her wanted to cave back into the gentle touch from moments ago and let him take the marks away. After all, wasn't it easier to fight your fears with people by your side then all alone?

_Did I just think Malfoy is on my side? _"Perhaps I like the reminders on my skin Malfoy, did you ever think of that?"

He chuckled, but it was more of a tentative chuckle then a vicious chuckle. His hand reached out, but instead of grasping her wrist, clamped around her waist and pulled her alongside him into his bedroom, directly to a full length mirror. She shook him off quickly, finding his sudden actions odd.

The blond gently moved her to stand in front of it, so she stood in front of him, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders, silver orbs closed. "How could you ever stand looking at yourself like that," he asked his breath on her ear. She shuddered; what was he doing?

The words slipped out of her mouth before she could help it; "I don't." Hermione couldn't explain what propelled her to say it, but she did; he was just being easy to talk to at the moment, for whatever reason.

He clicked his tongue, eyes still closed. "That's a problem, isn't it Granger? You may say you want to do something about my uncle, but you still let him win."

"I do not," she snapped, whirling around, her eyes wide. "Shut up!"

The blonds eyes opened, and he gripped her arm a bit. "You don't do anything about the marks on your skin. You say it's a reminder, that hiding them is complicated and not that simple, but they're excuses Granger. Excuses for what, I don't rightly know. But you said the same things about that new word on your arm, made by the same person. If you never do anything about those marks Granger, he still wins."

"He wont win," she spit, jerking herself away from him, and fell onto his bed. She stared up at the blond from her sitting position, wondering why he was pushing this specific topic so much. Were the marks that awful to him? As far as she knew, he only ever asked her things to make sense of the never ending puzzle surrounding her, so why did it seem like he cared?

_Maybe he does…_

The Gryffindor immediately threw that thought away. Malfoy, caring, about her? That was never going to happen! If anything, he would only care about her because he considers her _property._

"How so Granger? I'm sure he didn't shred you only for the fun of it- though I have no doubt he probably took some sort of sick pleasure in the act." She flinched at his words, and he knew his assumption was correct. But she immediately hardened her face again, sick of Malfoy always making her feel so small and scared, when he had not even seen what she had.

"It doesn't matter Malfoy; he's had his fun. Now leave me be." Standing, she moved to leave, but he stepped in between. Merlin, was this becoming a pattern.

"What do you mean, had his fun," the blond asked suspiciously, eyes narrowed. Hermione's eyes grew a bit, but she said nothing, and even allowed him to shove her hair behind her shoulders so he could glare at her. "What the fuck does that mean!?"

Inwardly, she slapped herself. That was truly a poor choice of words. "Malfoy-"

"Granger," he interjected, eyes hard. He had moved his hands up to grip her forearms. "Did he… did he rape you?"

The girl felt her eyes nearly pop out of her head, "Merlin no!" Shoving him away, she took a step back and clutched at the areas Draco had been gripping. "I mean, he didn't…"

Draco sat down on her bed, looking on at the girl with an expression of indifference. If his uncle had raped her, then it explained some of the strange behavior, but certainly not the cancer. Merlin, he still hadn't pieced everything together! But watching the now shuddering Gryffindor in front of him, he feared he had pushed too far.

And since when did he ever fear how far he pushed people?

Extending a hand to her, he waited an unusually long amount of time for her to accept it. When she did, he gently pulled her to sit with him on the bed beside him, at a far enough distance that she hopefully wouldn't freak out. Granger had gone from looking at him, to the floor, and one emotion read clear as day on her downturned face; shame.

"Since when do you stumble over you words," he asked cocking his head to the side. She only shrugged, and a little bell went off in his head. He may not be anywhere near figuring out exactly what happened that lead to those scars on her tummy and arm, as well as the murders of her parents, but he felt he was close to discovering what Rodolphus really did to her that summer.

"Granger," he said, trying to sound kind and sincere, but he knew it was a bit forced. Being sympathetic really wasn't something he was familiar with. Hugging her on the couch a few weeks ago when Theo burnt her mother's bandana was hard enough for him to understand, but a depressive looking Gryffindor was far beyond what he could relate to. "Whatever happened, you can't hide it forever."

"I'm doing a fairly good job at it," she replied, crossing her legs. She did not want to talk about this, and couldn't face the idea of falling to pieces on his bed. Malfoy was never in her wildest dreams the person she envisioned sharing her terrors with. It had been Harry and Ron and Ginny, all of whom she was currently not speaking with. That made things a bit difficult, but still, Malfoy? How had things ever gotten to this?

"Oh yeah," he said sarcastically, falling back against his pillows, completely sprawled out on the large bed. It made her a bit uneasy to sit with him there like that, while he remained completely unfazed, but she said nothing. "You have been hiding all of your emotions! You never go into random fits of rage, or tears, or depression, and you don't take shit from your friends like you never did in sixth year. You're right Granger; you're doing a perfectly good job of hiding your troubles. Oh, and flashing your stomach to me with all those scars; very secretive."

She glared. "Just shut up," she muttered again, her comebacks frightfully weak. Rolling his eyes, he shifted on the bed so he was a bit further from her body, putting space between him and the shaky girl.

"Oh, I will Granger, because my intent really is to listen. So tell me, what exactly happened to make you shy away from doing anything to help yourself? What exactly did my uncle do to make you so… shaky?"

Brown eyes looked up and met silver. "Nothing you want to know Malfoy."

He rolled his eyes. "Granger, if I didn't want to know, this would never have been discussed. Now stop being so difficult and enlighten me, will you? The bastards my family, I may as well know how very twisted he can be."

Hermione shook her head gently. "No."

That's your problem Granger; you always say no to me." Sitting up again, he grasped her arm so she couldn't run away. "I mentioned rape and you practically ran from the room. So did he? Is my uncle really that sadistic?" He raised an eyebrow, not sure what to expect at this point. But whatever she was going to say, he would bottle up his reactions just like before, else she may find a way to slip out if he started screaming.

After all, he may harbor hateful feelings towards her, but he had seen her be tortured once before and that had been enough for a lifetime. _Although, it's not really hateful feelings anymore, is it? You don't even know what exactly you think of her. _

Draco didn't have time to consider that thought, for suddenly she was speaking, "He didn't rape me Malfoy," she said quietly, looking down.

He felt something inside of him lift a bit. Merlin, he would really of had some emotions to fight if a member of his bloody family had been able to force that kind of horror on someone! The blond could admit he was grateful to hear nothing like that had happened-

"He wouldn't bother soiling himself like that," she spit bitterly, still looking down. "I'm just a fucking Mudblood, so he would never stoop that low, thank Circe. But he's still sick Malfoy," she continued, her voice breaking.

Draco raised an eyebrow, feeling her arm go limp before she tried to pull it away. He let go, watching the girl in front of him crumble. "He didn't have to rape me," she said, and he could see the few tears falling down her face as she spoke, "because he did just as much damage without going that far."

She tried to bury her head into her arms, pulling her knees up to her chest, but Malfoy feared that if he allowed that to happen he would lose her completely, and she would lock herself away into this pathetic little person who couldn't handle what had happened to her. Gripping her chin firmly, he jerked her face up to look at him as gently as he could. "Keep going," he said soothingly, keeping any edge out of her voice. He didn't want the shaking mess to come back.

Hermione closed her eyes, forcing any sort of tears back before she continued. She was talking now, more then she should be, but she didn't want to stop, and let fear back in. If she did that, she wouldn't be able to explain anything without fearing it, and that couldn't happen; she _needed _to tell someone, and Malfoy wasn't being a prick about everything.

When she was quiet for a few moments, he spoke again. "What kind of damage Granger?"

She looked up, meeting his eyes for a second before looking past him at the wall. "All kinds of damage Malfoy. He took my parents away from me; he destroyed my home. He touched me!"

The blond raised his eyebrows. Did she mean… well of course that's what she meant! She wouldn't have flinched away from the term 'rape' if his touches had been only abusive. He crinkled up his nose. "That's sick."

Hermione nodded, looking back down at the space between them. "I know, so does he."

"I'm sure he does," Draco said, rolling his eyes with that look of disgust still plastered on his features. "It's fucking twisted!"

"I told you that you didn't want to now," she said, eyes not moving off of his bedding. "There are reasons I keep my secrets."

Malfoy pursed his lips, watching the top of her head. Was she crying again? Or maybe just remembering terrible things? His gut clenched. Even if Lestrange hadn't raped her, what he had done by _touching _her was bad enough, and he didn't wish to know the details.

He did know one thing though, his uncle had always hated the girl in front of him for more then one reason; she was Potter's friend, and she was the Mudblood Queen. He had heard rumors during the war about what Rodolphus would do to the girl if she came to the Manor's dungeons, and they were all truly wicked things that would've made Draco hurl. Hermione's vague description of what Lestrange did to her fit into that category perfectly, and sadly the blond had no reason to believe what she said were a bunch of lies. He wanted to jump up and call her a liar, and make her explain the real story, but with his background knowledge he couldn't force himself to jump up and do just that. Besides, Granger looked rather broken as it was, and fuck- it had taken him this long to get her to talk, so he wasn't about to ruin that opportunity now.

"How is that worse," he pressed, bending forwards to try and see her face. Maybe it would comfort her to remember she wasn't alone, or perhaps it would alarm her that it really was him who she was talking to, and she would try to bolt. Well, if she tried to run, he was fucked. Reaching out a hand he forced himself to move it over the back of her hand, and found the action really wasn't that hard at all.

She shifted, and it surprised both teens that it was towards him and not away, when she should be trying to run since he was interrogating her. Her leg touched his own and there was comfort there in the simple fact that he didn't shove her away. "Because," she said, her fingers playing with each other nervously, "he mistreated me and then spat in my face, telling me I wasn't good enough to even be used like that."

He quirked his head, shoving her hair back to try and see her expression. "I ask again, isn't that a good thing?"

"No!" She whipped her head up to look at him, but any anger she was trying to push out was swallowed by the fact that she was crying, and he was being nice enough to not shove her away, even if he was pushing her. "It was humiliating," she whispered, drawing her knees up again, but resting her head on them instead of between them. "He used me, made me feel worthless, and then tossed me aside while I felt dirty and used, saying I wasn't even good enough to be used like that. I was nothing."

Draco scowled, grabbing her shoulders so she would look at him, and she did. "You're only nothing Granger if you let yourself believe what he said. You have allowed yourself to believe him, and now you think terribly of yourself. Before, you were quite headstrong and smart, and you didn't let yourself break like this," _As far as I know anyways. _"Stop letting him get to you. Everything he did was obviously done to make you feel worse and worse. I'm not sure what exactly you did to piss him off so badly, but he's trying to get back at you for it. _Stop _letting him win. Every single fucking day that you believe his words, you make it harder on yourself to feel better."

_Did Malfoy just make me sound like an utter idiot?_ Reaching up, she dabbed away a few tears. "So you're telling me to not be sad?"

He rolled his eyes. "If you weren't sad and hurt about this Granger, you would be a rock. I'm not saying that, I'm saying stop _believing _it. Stop thinking that anything he ever said was true, and reflects on you. He may have molested you, but he didn't go as far as he could've and you should be grateful for that. A lot of people don't get away from a situation like that with your luck."

Her eyes narrowed. "You call this luck," she asked, reaching down again to reveal her scarred belly. "It's _lucky, _not luck. Luck means good fortune was set for me. _Lucky _just means I was barely saved. I was nearly dead when the Ministry found me."

Draco frowned. "The Ministry found you? Well how the bloody hell did you end up _keeping _those fucking marks? Healer's usually remove those-"

"Cloaking spells can do wonders, she interjected, hugging herself. When they had finally replenished my blood enough and I could register what had happened, I saw one of the nurses set down her checklist and I used my wand to make sure it looked like someone had taken care of my scars, and then cloaked them each morning until I left."

"Sounds like a lot of work," he mused, glancing at the mirror. Her shirt hid her entire upper body, expect the raised area, and he could see even more marks there. It appeared his uncle did not believe in mercy at all. "But why keep them?"

She sighed, standing to move off the bed and to the mirror, staring at herself. He watched from the same position, curious. "Scars have the strangest power to remind ourselves that we existed," she quoted quietly from _All the Pretty Horses_, pulling the sleeve of her shirt up to reveal the two words on her arm, the only two wounds on the entire appendage; he had wanted them to show brilliantly in contrast to everything else. "My scars remind me of why I still exist."

"And why is that, do you think," Draco asked, coming to lean against the wall beside the mirror. He watched her closely, beginning to worry about what she would do next; Granger seemed very lost at the moment.

"To remember," she said quietly, her eyes watering. "To remember my mistakes, and every little thing he ever did to me," she breathed, looking on at herself in disgust- the same look of disgust Draco had worn when she explained his uncle's sick ways of torture.

The blond grimaced. She was still on the whole 'it's my fault!' thing, and that really wasn't working for him. She was just never going to move on. Shooting his arm out quickly, he wrapped it around her waist like before and pulled her closer to him, drawing his wand. Her eyes grew large and she reached for her own, but he merely shoved her hand away.

"Relax Granger," he said keeping his expression mutual, "I'm not my uncle; I won't harm you."

She watched him cautiously as he touched the wood to a scar on her tummy, saying nothing- but of course he wouldn't. She forgot that he could do wandless magic sometimes. Although he had yet to make her truly fear him, she felt apprehensive letting him get so close. A warm touched her skin for a moment before the heat disappeared, and he stepped away so she could glance in the mirror. What had once been a gash had now become the thinnest of white lines; a healed scar that barely showed at all.

"Scars may remind us that we existed," he said, watching her, "but that doesn't mean we keep them from healing. They may never go away, but they are always there. Doesn't that scar hold the same emotional pain that all the others hold, just not as obviously? Let the marks heal Granger, and when you don't look in the mirror everyday and think '_ugly_' then perhaps you'll heal too."

Hermione looked over at him, ready to protest that she didn't, but kept her mouth shut. It wouldn't do any good to lie. It was quiet for a moment before she breathed out and spoke again, not looking at him. "They aren't just on my stomach."

"I hadn't thought so Granger, but anything you aren't comfortable with me touching I'm sure you can heal all by yourself." She nodded her head once, before heading for the door. "Granger," he called after her, "it defeats the purpose if you leave."

"I know," she said, stopping in the open doorway, "but I think it would be better for me to change then strip."

Draco cringed, only imaging the reactions again. "Yes," he said quickly, "I agree."

* * *

><p><em>What the fuck!?<em>

He sat alone in his room just over two hours later, after having healed half of Granger and coaxed her into letting him do areas that she wasn't quite comfortable with, but were in no way inappropriate to touch. He was actually surprised how trusting she had seemed. He was after all, Malfoy, the ferret.

_Well why did you bring that up you git!_

He rubbed his face. His bed now smelled like her since she had spent so much time sitting on it, and he had yet to decide if Granger's scent was pleasant or not. Frowning, he bent and sniffed at the sheets.

_No, definitely pleasant. _

What the hell had gone on earlier? One moment they were screaming about families, the next she is causing his stomach to flip at the sight of her destroyed flesh. At least she had let him heal those up correctly, since it appeared all she had ever done was let them sit and get infected. The process to clean her up had taken ages, and he hadn't even touched the more private parts of her. Part of him wondered if his bastard of an uncle had left marks in those areas too. The thought made his blood boil.

How could he be related to these kinds of people? It made him want to hurl.

Granger had told him far more then he expected, and cried the hardest when he began fixing her up. At first he had thought he had hurt her and stepped back, but she quickly cleared up the problem and he continued working.

And helping her like that had been very out of character. But if nothing else, she could at least now trust him to not allow his psychotic father to murder her in her sleep while over for the holidays. Oh yes, that conversation had gone just lovely;

"_I still want you to come for the holidays," he said, healing a twisted scar on the back of her right calf. "I still want you to look at my father."_

_She had been tense already with the contact, but at the mention of the holidays that were fast approaching she nearly jumped out of her chair. "You still want me to do that?"_

_Draco glanced up from his work, but for barely a moment. "Of course, it's part of our deal. And besides, now you really owe me."_

_Granger glared. "Why is that?"_

"_I'm helping you out, and I listened to you." After that, she was quiet, and neither said a word for a while. It wasn't until after Malfoy had finished that she said anything at all. _

"_Why did you listen?"_

"_I'm a curious person," he joked, not putting any effort in to even change his face into a smile to try and make it real. "And it's my uncle we are discussing."_

_She nodded absentmindedly. "I suppose that makes sense." Crossing her arms, she looked over at the wall above his bed. "Thank you," she said, although it came out a bit odd since it was so strange to thank Malfoy for anything. _

_He nodded, also put off by the turn of events. "Yeah," he replied, falling onto his bed, "So the holidays then, Granger?"_

_Hermione rolled her eyes. She didn't want to go to his Manor. "Malfoy, I really don't-"_

"_Granger," he said, cutting in without malice in his voice, "it's our deal, so nothing is changing. I may not enforce my power over you as much as we both know I could, but if you try and find a way out of this I certainly will go there. You need to look at my father, so my mother will stop wasting away in that place with him lurking around every corner. I'll bring you back just the way you are now- bushy-haired and annoying- after the holidays and past the you can completely ignore me if you so choose."_

_She nodded slowly. "You make it sound like he may kill her."_

_Draco shrugged, not bothering to mask his face, "I worry about that," he snaps, glaring at the wall. "But she won't listen, so I have to take matters into my own hands."_

"_I'm sorry," she said, after a long pause, but Malfoy cut her off._

"_I don't want your pity Granger," he sighed, closing his eyes. "Please just leave me be for a while."_

_She glared. He dismissed her like she was nothing, but just then she didn't want to argue. She needed time alone more then anything, and would take it, even if she needed to storm from the room to feel better. Huffing, she turned and left, slamming his door as she went. The blond only rubbed his forehead. Things were suddenly twice as confusing. It was a lot of information to take in at once, and now he had to try and process everything._

_Initially, his first reaction was to yell, or hit things. Really, who didn't feel a bit angry at some bastard who could do things like that to people? The fact that it was a member of his own family- no matter how distant that he was- only made it worse; it made him want to hurl at the thought of just everything he was capable of doing. Simple because you can go through with something doesn't make it right, and doesn't mean you should._

_He sighed and sat up. Not only had they talked about her, but they had gotten touchy with his family as well, and among everything else that was just extra bullshit no one needed. Granger's problems were taking up the majority of his mind at prior, and for right now it was a nice distraction from thinking about his mother and father at the Manor, alone. The thought always made him worry._

_Granger would help, he was sure of it. If she couldn't help him- and since she lacked proper medical training, he was expecting as much- at least 'the brightest witch of their age' might be able to convince his mother to move the man elsewhere, where it wasn't a constant thought in Draoc's mind about whether or not his mother was alive. At least when the Gryffindor came with to the Manor, she would just be in the next room and he could hopefully tell if Lucius came down to visit. _

_But then, with the way things were going, he could possibly end up seeing Rodolphus pay them a visit too. Now wouldn't that just be grand?_

He shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts. He was going to have a lot to sleep on, and since they had already missed the first class, he decided to simply owl the Headmistress and tell her Granger was under the weather and he was watching. That had worked before, right? He highly doubted either of them would go anyways, and if they were found to be skipping after the weeks they had spent together alone in the dorm, rumors would soar higher then they already were, and he was certain he could not tolerate that. Standing, he left his room and bangd on Granger's closed door.

"Granger!"

"What!" She didn't open the door for him, and he didn't say anything about it. He didn't want to talk either.

"I'm owling McGonagall that you feel off, and we're taking the day to make sure nothing's wrong. You'll probably get an owl about it anyways."

"Fine," she said from the other side of the door, and he quickly turned away. Why would he want to talk at the moment? Anymore information and his mind may explode. Walking back into his room, he prepared a short letter.

* * *

><p>He collapsed on the chair. She was being tedious, a real problem to try and locate. Sure, he knew Miss Hermione Granger resided at Hogwarts, in a dorm where his nephew stayed as well. Getting into Hogwarts would be hard enough, but if the bitch went and really explained why things had been happening, or at all brought him into the picture, then he was really in for trouble. Malfoy's stood against people they thought revolting, and in this case his nephew may be in front of Granger when he faced her. He wasn't sure how Draco would take hearing what he had done to her, just that he probably wouldn't be as enthused as Lucius Malfoy would be. The blond might even find the stories revolting, and if the Mudblood shared the story first Draco would be more of a problem then before.<p>

_If he wasn't already a problem_. Shaking his head, Rodolphus continued to pace the small, rundown area of land, his hand firmly locked around the necklace resting in his palm. That necklace had been around for a while- since Martha died- and now he carried it with him. He would use it to ring Granger's neck if given the choice, and perhaps then Malfoy would smirk and join him in his games. _Or try to help her, either one. _

He punched a wall as he came to it, and the sickening sound of his bones breaking did nothing to teeter his mood. It hurt, but it felt good too. He could just imagine breaking her fucking neck, and hearing the same, satisfying snap.

Now if Theo Nott would help him more in his quest to locate her, life would be better. Merlin, how did he get such a prick? He had only contacted a few Slytherin's, with the intent to use them to help him get Granger, and only Nott had replied. Had those once dark followers really turned their backs on something they really believed in? Obviously he had not attempted to find the right people, if only one of the buffoons had decided to take him up on his offer.

Smirking, he shoved the necklace into his pocket and pulled out a blade, the same blade he had used to kill Welsh, before torturing his dear assistant Annabelle, turning her own wand against her to control the woman. One good thing came out of that, though.

Tracking spells were great. Having killed another wizard one day later, towing the woman along, he made her go to the apartment, and kill anyone who was there. Low and behold, when he cast the spell the following day, his wand produced the names of the people who had been to the apartment the previous day. Many Auror names appeared, but when Granger's and Draco's had shown up, his eyes had bulged. Something was certainly wrong with his nephew, but Malfoy would see soon enough that helping that pathetic waste of skin was pointless. If he failed, another just like him would come after her next, he was sure. All Pureblood's hated Mudblood's, right?

_Draco will see the truth soon enough. Close contact with the girl has obviously gotten to his head, but no matter. So long as I can twist him into being on my side, I will be just fine._

* * *

><p><strong>An: **Did you finally enjoy figuring out what happened to her?


	23. Now I'm Bound

**A/n**: There's a banner for this story (two in fact) and multiple others on my facebook, including a sneak peek banner for my upcoming story Smittenly Bitten. Check it out :) Like my page and see all this other stuff about my stories. Thanks for reading this story and keep up those reviews loves :) It's crazy that we are already halfway to 600…

I'm sorry for the late update! I started school this week, and that on top of everything else got to me and I just found time to update :( I tried! Nonetheless, I hope you at least like it!

The facebook link is at the top of my profile! Thanks to my beta, **JDeppIsMyLovely**, and enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Now I'm Bound<strong>

The day before the holidays began, Hermione found herself in a tight situation. Harry had offered on the sixth for her to come with him, Ron (who had said little to her) and Ginny to the Burrow for the holidays, and she had declined, saying there was something of utter importance she had to do over the break. Needless to say, the three were put off with her.

Neville however, was a blessing. He was so sweet to her and had completely disconnected himself from the drama surrounding the four other Gryffindor's recently, making him easy to talk to, so long as the topic wasn't brought up. During lessons she had recently opted to spend more time with him and Luna then her best friends- or Malfoy. That wasn't to say she was trying to put distance between herself and her best friends anymore, simply that things were too complicated and she didn't know how to explain her situation. So, she had been trying to not push things. Once the holidays ended, she would be able to breathe again and hopefully have this entire situation behind her.

All expect the emotional baggage of course. But her actual bags were all mostly packed and ready, preparing her for the daunting task she was faced with. She had nearly three weeks to convince Malfoy of another way for her to repay him for healing her, but the blond had not listened. So she was going to Malfoy Manor, and that thought kept her stomach empty because of worry; she simply could not eat. There were a lot of memories residing in the structure that went beyond the war; things involving Rodolphus and the mere fact that he had lurked within those walls sent shivers down her spine. It was terrifying to consider going back, but Malfoy was persistent, and since he only bothered to push a few matters to the full advantage of his deal over her, she had to go, no matter how much she despised it.

And the real highlight would be seeing his parents; the charming people that they were. She could only imagine the kind words Narcissa Malfoy would bestow upon her for entering the very grounds of Malfoy Manor, and what's more- to visit her bloody husband who would probably try to kill her. Actually the woman may not have a problem letting her visit then, if she were killed in the upstairs and all.

Rodolphus had sent nothing in the past two and a half weeks, seemingly having left her alone. She had hoped by sending the note off to him that he would reply, and she could have a set idea in mind for when this would be over, but he had not said a word. She dared not tell him she would be staying at Malfoy Manor- for if he still had a way in, then she would be screwed and endangering three other people (even if she didn't like them)- but she had hinted that she may not be in the castle. Merlin knew she hoped he didn't figure out her location, since she didn't even know now if he would be meeting her during the holidays or waiting for a different time to come and try to end her life; that thought was more frightening then just facing him. She wanted to have a plan so that this could be all over; she was tired of playing his games.

Malfoy had at least reframed from being a complete git since she broke down and told him her dark secrets; not nearly all of them, but he obviously had some too. She wasn't sure how much more she would even be telling him, just that she wondered about what he was keeping behind closed doors as well. In the past two weeks, she had seen him gazing on at her a few times with haunted eyes. Just what was that about?

Sitting on her bed, she debated just what to do. She had everything packed up, and would be getting on the train in the morning to sit by herself; she refused to sit with him. Still, the idea of being alone made her sigh; she had always rode the train with her friends, laughing on the long journey, but tomorrow she would be alone, and alone just meant that she would have too much time to think.

Lying back on her bed, she closed her eyes and hoped for sleep.

* * *

><p>"Malfoy, open the door!"<p>

"Potter, stop banging on the door and bugger off!" Draco placed the book he had been reading over his eyes, having been reclined on the couch since it seemed Granger would not be coming out of her bedroom for a while. He had been in the middle of a chapter, lost within the contents of the pages and distracted from his problems, when the obsessive wrapping on the dorm door began. "Whatever it is you want, I am sure it can wait until morning when it's not nearly curfew!"

"Let me talk to Hermione," he called, banging on the door. Draco raised an eyebrow from beneath his book, having been under the impression that Potter and the gingers were isolating her from their lives. He had only seen the boy speak with Granger on a few occasions lately, and one had been so Weasley could snap rude comments out at her. Draco had been nearby then, and had watched from the same alcove he had pulled Granger into weeks ago. It wasn't like her once-friend reached out at her physically, but kicking the brunette while she was down didn't do any good either. Potter had the curtsey to shush the idiot on occasion at least.

As the banging continued, Draco groaned, and tossed his book to the side, standing and storming to the door He tore it open, nearly receiving a fist to the face as Potter's hand came down to bang on the door again. It caught his nose and the blond stumbled back a bit, clasping his nose with one hand and glaring daggers at the Gryffindor.

Potter just shrugged. "Can I see her?"

He waved his hand, "Just fucking go find her. I refuse to deal with you if you are just planning to cause harm to my poor face."

"It is a poor face," Harry grumbled in agreement, hurrying past the furious blond before he could be hexed. He was not there to stir up issues with Malfoy, but to talk to his friend. Pushing open the door he knew to be Hermione's gently, he slammed it back shut immediately.

"Harry," came the scream, as a body slammed against the wood. "What are you doing?! You idiot!"

Harry's cheeks were stained red as he attempted a reply. "I, er…"

"Harry James Potter, I swear when I finish getting dressed you are going to regret this!"

Malfoy raised an eyebrow a the conversation, chuckling a bit to the outside but pondering the idea of magically shaving a terrible symbol into Potter's head for that move "Walk in on Granger dressing there Potter? Whatever happened to your manners?"

Potter whirled around and glared. "It's nearly ten! I thought she would have showered a long time ago," he replied, cheeks still red.

The blond arched his eyebrow higher. "She will kill you when she comes out of there. Whatever is important enough to barge in on her like that surely could've waited for you to knock."

The raven-haired boy glared further. "Shut up Malfoy, this doesn't concern you."

"Then what does it concern?"

He scoffed. "It's about why Hermione won't come with us for vacation. We wanted to heal the rift between us, but she's off dealing with something important, so hopefully we can go with."

Draco nearly asked why he had bothered telling him this at all, but Hermione's door opened and a wet-haired Gryffindor stepped out. She looked mad at Harry, but kept tugging at the slightly short sleeves of her shirt, and the blond wondered if she could hold the shirt in place long enough to hide the words.

Potter's attention was immediately removed from the Slytherin. "Hermione-" he began, but she cut him off with a swift slap to the head.

"Don't ever come into my room again without knocking," she scolded. Even Malfoy had the courtesy to be ashamed at her words, having walked in on her himself some time ago, and she hardened her gaze further, all thoughts from earlier being pushed into the back of her head. "I should make your ears expand for that, but I don't have the current motivation to hex you. I heard exactly what you said to Malfoy, and honestly Harry you can't. What I am doing over my holiday break is none of your concern." She attempted to reduce the tension in her voice, worried about letting something slip. She couldn't allow Harry and Ron to go with her, since she was going to Malfoy's dark home, but she couldn't really explain either, so she was stuck in a tight spot. Hopefully, Harry wouldn't dig too deep into the topic.

Harry's eyes widened. "Are you crazy? Of course it's my concern! You're my friend Hermione; we may not be on the best of terms, but you are someone I care about and if something bad has happened I want to help you, we all do." He looked at her sincerely. "The way you told me things last time made me worry; I just wanted to make sure everything was alright. It's not like you to keep secrets." He looked at her with large, wondering eyes, as though he expected her to spit out more thingd he couldn't believe.

She just sighed. Reaching to rub the back of her head, she said, "Harry, I can't talk about this right now. Please. We will talk soon, I promise, just not right now."

It wasn't until she had finished speaking that she realized the raven-haired boy's eyes had moved up from her face. He didn't seem to even be paying attention to her at all now, his gaze fixated on her arm. As she realized just what he had to be staring at, her eyes widened in horror and she clamped both arms behind her back.

"Harry-"

"What the hell is that," he practically screamed, stepping forwards. He ripped both her arms from behind her back, and she didn't struggle against him as he pulled the sleeves of her ill-fitting shirt up. The word on her arm stopped him in his tracks, as he stared at the horrid scars, the only marks she had not permitted Malfoy to heal.

"I…" her voice trailed off, unsure how to explain. She couldn't rightly say nothing, not without spiking his curiosity further- and his anger. She saw Malfoy take a tentive step forwards, eyes studying her, but she shook her head and he stopped a decent distance away.

He didn't move to trace the scars like Malfoy had, and chose instead to stare at the word, as though he could make it go away. "I…" she started again, not sure how to start but he cut her off by shoving her arm roughly away.

"There's another secret," he breathed, eyes baring into her. He took a step forwards- which again drew Draco's attention and he shifted to make sure there was nothing he needed to do to stop Potter- and stared into her eyes. "So how many are there?"

She blinked, thrown by his question. "What?"

"You heard me," he snapped, "how many secrets do you have Hermoine?"

The girl bit her lip, feeling ashamed. She had always known that the longer she kept quiet the worse their reactions would be, but seeing Harry now looking so hurt and lost and confused nearly broke her heart. Here was someone she had been through thick and thin with- and she couldn't even share her troubles with him. Biting her lip nervously, she avoided his gaze. "More then I would like to admit."

He sighed, the air ticking her face, before stepping back and putting space between them; he would've bumped into Malfoy had the blond not stepped to the side. "Why," he asked, forcing himself to remain calm. Her skin had paled considerably and she looked ashamed to talk about this; he was angry with her, but yelling like Ron usually did would get them no where.

She turned her head further away. "Because I didn't want you worrying, and I don't want you to be in danger"

"Danger," he asked, his usual worry spiking. "What do you mean danger? Merlin Hermione, what happened? Who did this?" His head suddenly whipped around accusingly to Malfoy. "You did, didn't you," he said, his mind suddenly producing somewhat believable but rather illogical conclusions about what had happened to create that word. His wand was instantly drawn and pointed at the blond, who had his whipped out just as quickly.

Hermione stepped between the two. "No Harry," she said quickly, attempting to push on his chest to get him to back away from Malfoy, "he didn't have anything to do with this."

"Then who did," he demanded, the cool tone wavering. His eyes moved from the Ferret to Hermione, waiting for her response to his question.

She apparently hesitated just a second too long, because Harry stepped back from the both of them and sighed before she could muster up the courage to say anything; would she have told him it was Draco's uncle? Apparently they weren't going to find out. The Gryffindor reached up and rubbed his head, looking away.

She attempted to use that moment to speak, but he spoke right over her. "Harry-"

"I need to go," he said quickly, turning and rushing from the dorm. She followed quickly behind, only stopping at the dorm's entrance because Malfoy latched onto her arm. She pulled quickly away from his grip, leaning out the doorway.

"Harry! You didn't let me even explain," she called after the quickly retreating boy. She wanted to say she would've admitted things to him, eve things that she had not told Malfoy, but she wasn't sure just what she would've told him. Being caught in a lie was bad, but harry running off like a girl who didn't know how to handle something was just unsettling. Had she really broke that much of his faith in her? As the speck that was Harry turned the corner, she sighed and brushed past Malfoy back into the dorm.

Shutting the door as she sat on the couch, he turned and addressed her, "Potter doesn't know how to deal with anything."

"Oh shut up," she grumbled. Harry's sudden discovery of the word on her arm was startling and worrisome. The emotions that were swirling in her head now because of it were causing a headache, and her wet hair had made the entire top of that shirt damp. She just wanted to go back to her room where there was no one to bother her, at least until tomorrow.

That thought made her face scrunch up. Unless she got the chance to talk to Harry tomorrow sometime on the train- while he was _alone_- then she would have to try and fi this new issue by owl over the holiday, and that would be pretty awful. Who explained things like that through a letter? It would probably just make him angry that she didn't do it to his face, although he would probably still be put off after the holiday if she waited and drug things out.

And then there was the issue of him possibly alerting Ro and Ginny, or someone like McGonagall about the carving, but she couldn't even allow herself to think about that; she would never sleep otherwise.

Without waiting for Malfoy's response, she turned and left the room, not bothering to glance behind her at the boy. Had she, she may of noticed the vague concern in his eyes.

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><p>She sat by herself on the train ride. She had seen Harry in a compartment earlier on with Ron, Ginny, Seamus and Neville and had decided to simply keep walking on to her own quiet space, trying to not notice the evil looks Ron through at her; he really did seem put off by the whole issue concerning Malfoy.<p>

Harry didn't even glance at her; his head stayed faced-down and- unknown to her- his fingers fiddled nervously with his wand, unsure about what he should feel towards the girl passing by. What he had seen on her arm the night before, and her lack of explanations was strange enough, but not to the point where he had told anyone, yet. He wanted to understand first, but he also wanted to make sure no harm was going to come to her either.

So she sat alone, with all the solitude she had feared, giving her mind enough time to swirl. Everything was rushing through too fast, and she had a splitting headache. At least Malfoy had granted her a quiet ride by going off with Parkinson and Blaise. Dealing with a multitude of Slytherin's on the ride sounded less than appealing; it was almost certain that the two housemates would've been at their friends side, and that was nice but not something she wanted. She had learned that they were not so bad, but those snakes did seem to have a way of making you talk sometimes without seeming to try; she couldn't handle that right now.

Staring out the window, she willed a large rock to somehow fling through the window and hit her in the head, so she wouldn't have to deal with everything that was approaching her; telling Harry and her friends- which would only prove more difficult now with how things had gone- getting through the Malfoy Manor horrors approaching her, and Rodolphus were just a few.

Sighing heavily, she rested her head against the seat.

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><p>Draco crossed his arms and scowled. Pansy and Blaise maybe well aware of Granger coming to his Manor for the holidays, but the entire student body didn't need to put that on top of all the rumors. The couple had left quickly at least, and given the other Slytherin's a subtle sign that the blond was in no mood to talk; he needed the majority of people to disappear before he went and grabbed Granger from a nearby bench. Although he didn't care what people had to say anymore, she had stressed the possibility of another of Rodolphus's followers being within the proximity of Platform 9 ¾, and how awful it would be if that person saw them leaving together. He believed that was a bit of an overthought worry, but didn't argue with her; she was apparently not confident with the Manor's wards (although she didn't honestly understand the entirety of them).<p>

He also thought she wanted to be sure Potter and the Weasley's were long gone before they were seen together; her inability to explain what was happening and why she had to go with him of all people over the holidays probably spurred on this entire plot. So he leaned against one of the brick walls and waited unhappily for the platform to clear.

It took forever, but at length only a few underclassmen remained, and he stomped over to where the girl had been sitting. Just as he arrived she tucked some sort of folded paper into her carry-on, the only other bag a very small piece of luggage sitting at her feet. He grabbed her arm and jerked her up as kindly as she could, receiving Granger's normal "annoyed" face.

"We can leave already; this place is practically empty."

She didn't respond, just picked up her things and brushed past him back to his own bags, nose turned up. His eyebrow arched, wondering why the girl suddenly seemed very much like her once stuck- up self.

_Probably an act so my mother doesn't try and bully her; I can't wait to see how this goes. _Smirk now in place, he followed behind her.

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><p>Apparating into the Manor only became a problem when the Pureblood's expensive car reached the wards of the place, not allowing Granger through. Malfoy apparated them in from there; and Hermione was not only surprised the git had a car but <em>drove<em> himself as well, only calling upon a poor house elf when he was forced to bring her into the place directly. Hermione had argued that they could've apparated just inside and drove in themselves, sparing the house elf the problem of moving the car, but Malfoy just scoffed and apparated them right into the bloody place, into a room she did not recall.

It was strange to have him hold her around her waist for a moment, when he could've simply held her shoulder. The blond seemed to realize this as well once they were inside and quickly shoved her back a bit, straightening his clean robes.

The ceilings were so high she felt they were useless, and the cool, dark demur of the place reminded the Gryffindor that Pureblood's all seemed to have the same fetish with dark, eerie decor that most people would classify under gothic. The Malfoy's were no exception; this place was made to intimidate.

She was about to ask Malfoy just what this room was supposed to be when a figure rounded the corner; she recognized the aristocratic features and pretty but cold face immediately. This was Draco's mother Narcissa, who may have once aided her and her friends in getting away from this place, but that did not mean she was kind.

"Draco," she began, before noticing the second figure in the room. Upon first entering her mind had convinced her this was Pansy Parkinson- for she had been the only girl the boy had blatantly ever brought home- but further inspection proved her wrong. Tired features immediately twisted into a graceless sneer; "What is _she _doing here? Draco we spoke-"

"No you spoke," he replied, arms crossed, "I simply ignored you. As I told you multiple times, Granger _is _here for the holidays, so can we skip this useless argument?"

"I will not have her in my house!" The woman looked livid. Hermione's eyes danced between the two Malfoy's; how often had this topic come up?

"Mother-"

"No Draco, I refuse. Her kind do not belong here. You will remove her immediately."

"I will do nothing of the sort," he snapped, beckoning Granger do him. She stayed in her place, refusing to be expected to come to him. When she refused, he rolled his eyes and walked up beside her, placing a hand on the small of her back to lead her from the room. Whatever his mother planned to say got stuck in her mouth as she witnessed this. "Can we kindly drop this topic now? Granger is here specifically to aid us and it's going to be quite hard to accomplish anything with all of us arguing." Before she could find her tongue and yell again, he ushered the Gryffindor from the room, who was too stunned and confused to stop him.

Malfoy really had lost his common sense if he thought that was the best way to handle that; now his mother would think there was something going on between them! Which of course was a complete lie.

It wasn't until they were down an entire hallway and around a corner that he removed his hand. She shot him a puzzled look and he just shrugged, moving forwards quickly; the silent exchange explained nothing, but allowed her to at least remind him that was uncalled for. She would have words for him, but not until he thought she was nice and calm; like when she was just about to go into her room.

They walked up a flight of stairs and down a long hallway before he stopped beside a door. "This will be your room, mine is just to the left."

Her eyebrows furrowed together. "Excuse me? Is there any particular reason we must sleep so close together in a place this large?"

Draco glared. "Yes, actually. In case you forgot, my father is a completely insane monster and he resides in this place, sometimes wandering the halls. If he is about to kill you I would at least like to know; you are the only chance that I can prove to my mother this entire set-up is suicide. The faster we can show her he's a danger the better- but that doesn't mean I need him wandering into one of the unlocked spare rooms someplace else in this Manor and have him try to off you. Whatever would I tell your friends?"

Hermione frowned. "You are being cold today Malfoy, at least since we walked up here. Why is that? And for the record I am perfectly capable of handling myself against an insane man."

His gaze hardened, and suddenly she was concerned as to why. Reaching forwards, he grabbed her sleeve and tore it up, exposing that carved word. "Yes Granger, it shows," he sneered, egging her on.

And just liked that it happened; her opposite arm came up and slapped him hard across his face, before she stepped back and tugged the sleeve down. "Shut up!"

His head whipped back around, and the terrifying thing was there was no malice there. "Feel better now," he asked calmly. "I don't care how you're feeling right now Granger, or how sad you are or how much you think you can handle yourself. You're my property staying in my home until after the holiday, and I will at the very least take care of you."

"Don't try to be nice," she hissed, shoving open her door. "Don't even start acting like you care, because if you did, then you wouldn't be forcing me to be here!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure Granger?"

Opening her mouth to reply, she debated whether or not he deserved an answer, and decided to go with the latter. Turning away she stomped into the room and smiled lightly when the door slammed behind her.

* * *

><p>He twisted her letter in his hands again, eyes gleaming. The girl was a complete fool! Did she think he would be merciful on her for trying to settle this? Hardly! He planned to make her squirm long before he offed her.<p>

Rodolphus tossed the letter aside, pacing the floor of his dirty little room. He had resided her for nearly two months now, on and off between his scavenges for people, and wands. Now his sole target had practically given herself up, but for one small thing; a location.

Oh Miss Granger was playing a dangerous game by stating she wanted to confront with him after the 26, but that she wanted to pick the location. That was tricky, seeing that his nephew could very well be with her. He knew for certain that the two had not been planning to stay at school for the holidays- something Theo Nott had been able to tell him before being a cocky, useless arse and getting himself caught by the Ministry- so it was possible the pair were at the Manor. If that were the case, things could go a lot of different ways.

Did he know how to get into the place? Certainly. He also knew that Lucius Malfoy was on the brink of insanity- if not past it- and would not be at his best were the escaped Death Eater to come to the place. But Draco had picked up a lot of habits during his time beneath the Dark Lord's rein and could pose a difficult opponent indeed. With someone by Granger's side- someone like _Draco_- he could very well end up not succeeding, and back in Azkaban. That could simply not happen.

He also knew, the two were getting quite close- emotionally, they had talked and he had witnessed this through Theo's mind; physically it was hard to tell. But once a Malfoy decided to protect something, it was usually for life.

And that was unsettling. Running a hand over his chin, and the amount of hair that had begun to grow there again after his last shave, he contemplated his options. She seemed to be trying to gain control of the situation, but he had no intention of letting that happen. This could take quite the amount of thinking, but the killer just knew he could find a way to twist things into his favor.

He wouldn't let some Mudblood schoolgirl and his nephew best him.

* * *

><p>Hermione was definitely confused; Malfoy had been acting odd. One moment he seemed intent to try and be civil, the next he had to make snide comments about one thing or another. It was so like him to have those blasted move swings every five minutes!<p>

She was currently laying on the plush bed in the room next door to Malfoy's, which _conveniently _had an inside door connecting straight into his room- something she had discovered while exploring; thank Merlin he had not been in there changing or something else equally awkward. She had also noted that there was no lock on either side of the door, which meant either of them had access to the other's room at all times. She didn't really find this comforting.

Rolling over and hugging a pillow, she closed her eyes. Life had been so complicated the past months, and sleeping here on this amazing bed amongst the pillows was a blissful idea, but her mind was too preoccupied to do anything of the sort; sleeping in the house of a family of ex-Death Eater's was not comforting, and although Malfoy had at least proven he had no intentions to kill her, it was still a bit concerning.

The biggest problem though with that fact in her mind was Lucius. Draco went on and on about how twisted his father was, but she had not seen nor heard the man since arriving three hours ago. Curiosity was beginning to peak and although he had not given her free reign of the place, she assumed he couldn't limit her too much since she was supposedly there to do _him _a favor.

Deciding nothing terribly bad could happen, she hopped up from the heavenly mattress and wandered out the door into the hall, certain Malfoy was either in his room or elsewhere in the place, but not close enough to be a problem just then. They were on the second floor of this wide home, and she had no idea where to begin. There was a smaller third floor above that seemed like a logical place to check, but if Lucius was still very much Narcissa's husband and the woman was unable to accept that he was crazy, then he would probably be closer to the family, on this floor or the bottom. There were so many doors- so many _places_- to check, she did not know where to begin and silently cursed herself. If she had paid more attention earlier when Malfoy called that elf to get the car, then she would at least know an elf to call to her side. She didn't like the idea, but the idea of wandering these strange, unknown, dark halls was even less appealing.

With a sigh she started off down the hall, intent on at least looking around; he had no right limiting her to any particular space after all- like her room. She wandered for several minutes down silent halls, finding nothing and growing uncomfortable. This place always seemed forsaken, and now knowing that such evil had wandered freely throughout the structure, she found herself wishing the place had more light. She was continuously using her wand to see when she went into rooms, and wished wizards would give into the benefits of electricity.

After an hour of wandering- and not very fast wandering at that- she rolled her eyes and decided to give up for the night. Malfoy had said dinner was at seven, and despite how little she wanted to go, she was hungry and would need to be fed. With any luck, Narcissa would be appalled at her presence and leave entirely. That thought immediately made her think how messed up the family was; they couldn't even tolerate dinner with different people. Sighing and hoping that wouldn't be the case, she turned and walked back the way she had come, wondering if she would be on time and praying she wasn't lost in this stupid place.

Creaking floorboards above her stopped her in her tracks, and she paused again as they creaked three more times and grew silent. Ah ha! Perhaps the elder Malfoy did reside on the top floor, apparently in solitude. She quickly located a nearby staircase and walked quietly up it, hoping to not draw attention to herself as she climbed. She didn't know which boards creaked or not, but hexing Malfoy's father because he tried to hurt her would be a terrible way to start things off. She moved slowly up the stairs, testing each one with her weight and was thankful when none made a sound.

The hall upstairs was narrower than the ones on the first two, and this level looked a bit haggard compared to the well-kept ones below; the Malfoy's may have dark décor, but the place was tidy, whereas this looked like some storm had recently gone through. Hesitantly looking around, she dimmed her light a bit and began walking, noticing that several doors appeared to have been thrown carelessly open up here. How could such a… clean, rich man let himself fall apart like this?

The first door was sealed shut, and the second was thrown open to reveal a completely barren room. The third looked like someone had anger issues, and decided to take it out on the ruined walls. It wasn't until the fourth room that anything interesting caught her attention.

A blond head of long hair, faced away from her, sitting at a beaten desk. What had possibly once been a study now looked like a trash heap, and the prestigious Lucius Malfoy sat in the middle, unknowing of her lurking. He was fiddling with something in his hands, and as she leaned forwards to try and catch what it was. Instantly the floor creaked, and she held her breath as the pale head whipped around, mad eyes searching out the source.

She had not seen the man look that haggard, ever. Before she had time to really take in his appearance, the man had stood and she was scampering back t try and hide in the shadows; she wanted to observe, not deal with him.

The boards creaked as he approached, and she stepped further down the hall, causing boards of her own to groan in protest; this place was really in need of repairs. When a head whipped in a direction and blond wisps of hair caught her eyesight, she backed up quickly and collided with someone.

A hand clamped down over her mouth, silencing her as another locked around her middle and pulled her back, down the stairs. She attempted to kick, but feebly. She had felt this person's arms around her more than once, had gotten used to his height, and was fairly sure who it was. On the platform between floors, he let her go and spun her around, a finger pressed to his lips.

"What are you doing," he hissed as she nodded silently. Instead of waiting for her response, he dragged her the rest of the way down the stairs. "Didn't I tell you on more than one occasion that my father is _dangerous_?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Calm down Malfoy, it's not like anything happened. I was perfectly capable of getting out on my own." She paused for a moment, something dawning on her. "How did you even know I was up there?" Her questioning look turned into a glare.

He rolled his eyes. "The floor was creaking too much for just father to be up there; considering my mother is in her study, I figured your curious nature must've kicked in. Do try to avoid that floor, won't you?"

She clicked her tongue. "How do I avoid it if that's the entire reason I'm here?" Crossing her arms, she leaned against the wall behind her, challenging him.

Draco scowled. The girl had been there less than a day and was already causing him trouble; there was no doubt in his mind that his father would've attempted to harm her in a moment or so had she decided to be 'brave' and linger up there. Yeah, he had to of done some good by going up there; a crushed Granger would be useless.

_She's not going up there again unless I'm there too._

"Just wait until I go up with you; I know my father better then you do, and I've had to handle him in the past. You shouldn't be worried about what he's going to do. You should only be focusing on everything wrong with him so you can declare to my mother that he is an utter lost cause. The faster you do that, the faster he can be removed."

Hermione tilted her head to the side, studying him. "Why does it matter to you so much? You make it sound like you can't sleep with him in the house."

His jaw tightened, and his wand hand flexed, but he did not move to grab it. Instead, he turned tightly on his heel. "Dinner is ready; it makes no difference to me if you come down now or scurry off to the kitchen later, I simply assumed you would want to know."

The blond was walking away before she even responded. "I'll be down soon," she said quietly, not sure how to respond to his odd behavior. He had nearly rounded a corner when she spoke again. "Malfoy?"

"What," he snapped curtly, not bothering to turn his head to look at her. He didn't want to deal with her and her persistency. She was getting too close for comfort, digging at things he did not even care to think about.

"Secrets keep you trapped," she said quietly, but just loud enough that the long hallway caught the words and carried them to his ears. He stiffened, before he bolted.

She didn't notice the action until she heard the quick footfalls. Up above her Lucius Malfoy continued to walk around, the boards above creaking. Wasn't it dangerous to not keep up wards so he couldn't get out, since Malfoy kept declaring the man was not to be messed with? And wasn't it odd how Malfoy seemed to literally _run _away from questions about his family? She had begun to think of the Slytherin as a rock; unfeeling and hard. She knew he pitied her, but he never seemed to have an ounce of sympathy for his own blood, and that was strange. So why did he suddenly have such a curious reaction to her statement?

Hermione sighed. She had a feeling Malfoy would not be down at dinner, and there was no way she would be spending her meal with only his cold mother as company. His earlier words about going to the kitchens rang in her head, but she did not know where that was and didn't care to do anymore adventuring tonight. Too much had already gone on and the journey here had worn her out. She would find a meal and then sleep. Starting down the hall, she remembered seeing some sort of dining room on her way in and decided if she could locate that the kitchens couldn't be that far off. It was time for a nice evening to herself, since Malfoy was avoiding everything.

If only she knew how drastically things could change.

* * *

><p><strong>An: **Long chapter to make up for my awful update! I hope you like it. There was a big leap in time here, but really, did you want to read another four chapters of not a lot of events? This is Malfoy Manor; something always happens there :D

And you guys are probably mad with me about my late update, but would you lovelies be willing to leave me a review anyways? I'm already working on the next update so it _is _on time!


	24. By the Life You Left Behind

**A/n**: Tada! Here's chapter 24. I went through and drafted the end of this story, so I think there's just about ten chapters remaining, give or take a few. Still, this has been an excessively long story and super fun to write! I hope you enjoy it like I have been. Not _tons _of action here but in a few chapters you're going to start getting a ton!

The facebook link is at the top of my profile! Thanks to my beta, **JDeppIsMyLovely**, and enjoy!

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><p><strong>By the Life You Left Behind<strong>

* * *

><p>It wasn't until much later when Hermione had already thrown on some pajamas that she saw Malfoy again, and that was only because he through their adjoining door open and stepped in as though he owned the place- which of course is beside the point.<p>

"What do you think you are doing," she snapped, sitting up in bed. She had no yet gotten beneath her covers, but the book she had decided to read instead of searching for something to help clench her hunger was doing a fine job of distracting her until that moment. She glared at him, hoping the prick would get the hint and leave. He just rolled his eyes.

"Come on," he said, beckoning with his hand. When she didn't move, he raised an aristocratic eyebrow, before calling out a name. "Dinky!"

The small house elf that popped into existence beside him began wringing his hands, ignoring Hermione entirely, who shot a disapproving look in Malfoy's direction the second she heard him say the name. Of course the prick would think calling a house elf into her room was a _good _idea. _Stupid Malfoy._

"Yes master," the elf said timidly, not looking at Draco. The blond was currently blocking the seething brunette out of his mind as he spoke to the small creature, who he had to remind himself was still forced to answer to his father's call. The boy didn't want to fathom what his father could've asked the elves to bring him.

"Bring her something to eat," he said, nodding in Hermione's direction. Her eyes flashed as the elf nodded and made to leave, but she held her hands out and shook her head quickly.

"No! That's really not necessary," she said, pinning an angry look on Malfoy, who just rolled his eyes. She bent down to the elf's level, grateful he had not decided to leave, and smiled. "Really, I can find something to eat myself. You should just take a break; don't let these horrible Malfoy's push you around."

The elf glanced between Hermione, than Draco, and back again before stopping his gave on his blond master. "Sir, what is wrong with the delusional one?"

Draco laughed, not even bothering to scold the elf who should be paying a person- even a Mudblood- more respect than that. Hermione whipped her head around to glare at him, but the blond couldn't see any malice in her face as he continued to laugh at her predicament.

"Shut up," she hissed, standing back up beside the blond. Dinky took this moment as an opportunity and apparated away before the 'delusional girl' could try convincing him to not listen to his masters again. The brunette didn't notice just then, and opened her mouth to yell at the infuriating blond just as something heavy hit the window.

The fact that Malfoy quickly placed himself between Hermione and the dangerous window was both alarming and surprising. She thought to ask him just what he was doing, but decided to not bring attention to his action; he may not have even realized he had done it. They both drew their wands, wondering just what had broken through the Manor's wards when a feathery head appeared at the bottom of the window.

It was Hermione's turn to laugh as she stepped around Malfoy's form and opened the window, allowing the Weasley owl to fly unceremonially in and land on her bed. Draco looked at the bird like it was some offending creature.

"How the hell did that thing get through the wards," he muttered, giving the owl a dark look. Hermione just rolled her eyes and shut the window, forcing the cold air out of the already chilly Manor.

"It's a bird Malfoy," Hermione said, already knowing who's it was. She was trying to block out the feeling of dread settling in her stomach. "It's Ginny's owl actually, Pigwidgeon."

The blonds eyebrows shot up. "What kind of name is that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but paid Malfoy no mind as she took the letter from the birds leg, unrolling it carefully as her face became more and more pale.

Malfoy's irritated mood disappeared as he realized just what Granger was holding, a smirk crossing his features. "Got a howler there I see?"

"Shut up Malfoy," she spat, waving her hand. "Get out of my room."

He clicked his tongue, before sitting down on her bed. "I think not," he replied, smirking wider. "This could be a lot of fun."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Don't even think about it! You are not staying in here. This may be your Manor but is my room currently and I demand you get out!"

Draco raised an eyebrow, before shooting his arm out to grab the Howler. It tore a bit on one side but didn't deter his determination. Dodging a now frantic Hermione he allowed her to chase him around the room as he tore open the envelope and the letter stopped them in their tracks.

_Hermione Granger! _The high, angry voice of Ginny Weasley echoed in Hermione's head as she stopped chasing the blond, pausing as the letter turned to face her. Malfoy crossed his arms and smirked, hoping he would get another good laugh out of this situation as well. The last ten minutes had made him rethink dragging Granger back to the school and forgetting his ideas. She could be quite entertaining, and it had only taken a short series of events to remind him of that.

_What do you think you are doing keeping this kind of shit from us? Harry was just explaining to Ron and I about the marks on your body and I must say I am utterly disappointed that you didn't even think to let us in on the secret! And from the sound of things, it sounds like even Malfoy knew before we did, since Harry didn't think he looked horrified at all. Just what happened to you? Since when do you tell ferret-boy things before you tell us?! Or is this his fault? Oh, if that slimy git laid a finger on you I'll kill him myself!_

Draco's cocky expression dropped a degree. It was no surprise to know that he was on the top of the suspects list as to how this happened, but hearing one of Granger's friends scream it through a letter made it more real. Did they actually think he could do that to a person?

_Harry has been beside himself since we got on the train. Do you know how guilty he feels? Why didn't you tell us? Is this why you won't spend the holidays with us at the Burrow, because you are ashamed? What's going through your head Hermione? I don't even really know what questions to ask in what order because I'm not even sure where your mindset is! Where are you for the holidays? Please come to the Burrow. We all want to talk to you about this- we're worried. Who hurt you? _

_Hermione, how long has this been going on? Do your parents know? How did Malfoy even find out? Must've happened sometime while you guys were stuck up there alone for weeks, huh? So did he leave the marks or did he just find them? Oh, I sent this to scream at you about how angry I am that you kept us away from whatever has happened, but now I have left my worry take over and I can't even muster the energy to yell! Please Hermione, owl me back and tell me what's going on. Where are you? We'll come and get you right away! Mom will be fine with you coming, I'm sure! _

_Please let us help you! I'm concerned. Owl me as soon as you get this. _

The letter tore into gentle shreds, landing at her feet, and it was a moment before Malfoy realized the emotions playing on her face were not what he expected; guilt and embarrassment were there, but the angry tears threatening to spill out of her eyes were not something the girl usually wore. Sure, he had seen her cry more in the past month than in the last seven years that he had known her, but crying over a letter from her beloved friend wasn't something he had planned on seeing when he looked back up at her.

"Granger," he asked gently, wondering if those rusty comforting instincts of his would need to kick in again.

"Shut up Malfoy," she snapped, straightening her features and removing the shreds with a flick of her wand. "I'm not in the mood."

His brow wrinkled together. "Why do you always assume I'm going to say something wicked?"

"Because you usually do," she spat, pointing her wand at him just as a loud pop behind them caught her attention. She jumped slightly at the reappearance of Malfoy's ill-treated house elf, but didn't spend the time to lecture this time. Dinky set down the tray of food he had brought and left again with a crack, taking the dark look in his master's eyes as a sign to get lost.

"I haven't been too bad lately," he countered, crossing his arms.

She threw her hands up, collapsing back on her bed he had vacanted. The blonds expression did nothing to betray the emotions playing in his mind, but she was sure there was more going on in his head then he let on. Looking frustrated, the blond turned and stomped out of the room.

"Thanks for the entertainment value I suppose," he muttered at the door, before slamming it closed again, allowing the solitude of two different rooms to set in again.

Hermoine sighed, rubbing her eyes. Wyh did the letter have to come on her first night? It couldn't have waited at least another day? Now she had a flustered bird sitting on her bed, a letter she would probably need to respond to, and an irritated Malfoy that still expected her to help him.

_Oh yeah, and the poor elf I ignored. Dinky was it? I will have to talk to him tomorrow as well, the poor thing. _Longingly, she looked at the tray of food but willed herself to not eat it. The poor elves had made it after all without an ounce of gratitude! How did she possibly forget that? Slowly, she laid back on her bed and tried to block out all the thoughts swirling around, including the ones stuck on her hungry stomach that kept rumbling.

It was an hour later when she caved and decided to devour the food, still warm because of magic. She was glad Malfoy had retired to his room, considering how many comments he was sure to have come up with had he seen her eat in such an undignified way. Only after she had eaten her fill did she find the energy to climb off the comfortable bed and stumble over to the window, sitting on the seat and drawing her feet to her chest, not allowing herself to focus on the sadness digging into her heart.

Why was everything such a mess?

* * *

><p>The following morning found Draco eating breakfast with his mother, but Granger nowhere to be found. The blond boy liked to assume that was because the girl's uncontrollable curiousity had kicked in and that she was exploring the Manor, not because she was trying to be smart and go see his father again and get out of there quickly. A dead Granger would be a useless Granger.<p>

"Where's that Mudblood this morning," his mother asked, glaring at her on over an expensive piece of glassware.

He rolled his eyes. "You mean Granger? She's probably attempting to steal our silverware of pack away the bed sheets."

His mother stood, looking alarmed before the blond waved a hand for her to sit down. "I was only kidding mother," he muttered, fixing the woman with a pointed look. He would've watched her far better if he believed that she was going to steal something- not that they couldn't afford to replace the entire Manor two times over before it became a problem.

The woman gave him a dark look. "I don't like it Draco. I don't like having her kind here. It's like throwing dirt into your floors; it never really comes out. How could you ever think this was smart? The girl has no reason to be here."

"There are several reasons why she is here mother, and I won't be removing her from the grounds until after the holidays when we resume school."

She gave him a critical look. "The Pureblood's at the ball will tear her apart."

"You make us all sound like beasts," he replied calmly, biting into an apple. "Granger will not be seen at the Ball, for although I did threaten to bring her as my date, I have decided it will be far too much work to watch out for her."

His mother just clicked her tongue. "If she is found, there are a lot of Pureblood's who will smother her in the coat closet. I do not wish for the girl to be here, and I want her dead body here even less, so keep her locked away."

"I'm not locking Granger away," he said dismissively, "I actually have a purpose for bringing her here- stop staring at me like that. It's not what you think."

"Of course it isn't," she agreed, sounding very unconvinced. "I just want to be sure you aren't soiling yourself with her. When you asked about Martha Evans, I had thought you had done something with the girl."

He quirked an eyebrow. "I did nothing of the sort. I thought Martha Evans was the muggle in that equation."

"She is," his mother agreed, "but she also led a hard life. Circe Draco, I had thought that by supplying you with a bit of information on the woman that your interest would be clenched by now. She really wasn't an important person, nor was her son."

"So Pureblood's only found the muggle article about their deaths interesting because she was a muggle to begin with? Mother, someone of importance had to of sired the child if your friends were relieved for the death. A regular wizard would not have drawn so much attention."

"I don't know who did," she said simply. "They lived in a muggle town, and although it is rumored that this man visited her many times during his life- granted that he isn't dead, for I don't even know who the father is- no one could understand why. She shouldn't have been such a demanding thing in his life, but he was. The only reason we even know that he visited her on more than one occasion was because the woman was carrying an unborn child when she died. It's obvious that none of us know for sure if it was the same man, since no tests were ever done and she and her son were buried in a muggle community, but a lot of us like to think it was so. Whoever it was that decided to impregnate her may have done it out of blind fury, and she was just on the receiving end, or out of love but we will never know." She sipped her drink. "As I said Draco, they were not very important. The only thing that even made the pair popular was gossip."

He nodded stiffly, a thought running through his mind. "I wonder if I could figure it out," he muttered.

"There's no point," Narcissa said, frowning. "The two are dead and the father isn't anywhere to be found. He may be dead too. Don't let yourself get swallowed by the drama as well; it was the topic for many days among many Pureblood's and trust me, it's a waste of time."

"How do you know so much?"

His mother shrugged dismissively. "As I said before, gossip. Now where is that Mudblood girl?"

* * *

><p>"Oi, Granger," he said, his voice echoing down the hall to her. Hermione whipped her head around, shutting the door to yet another room in yet another hallway. She had been trying to get the layout of the place all morning, but kept getting distracted by things in the rooms she observed. The Malfoy's definitely still had some very dark artifacts sitting in their home. She could practically feel evil radiating off of some of them.<p>

"Malfoy," she replied, turning her head so that it didn't seem like she was snooping. "Something I can do for you?" He looked at her, but didn't respond. The same thought from breakfast this morning was echoing in his head. "Malfoy?"

"Hmm?"

She frowned. "You seem a bit off. Perhaps some sleep will do you some good."

He scoffed. "Don't start telling me what will do me some good Granger. Exploring are we?"

The brunette shrugged. "When your father attempts to kill me for even being seen in this place I want to make sure I have someplace to hide."

His expression soured. "Funny Granger; as if I would send you up there alone. No, I'll be coming with."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "And just when do you think we are doing this? I was kidding Malfoy, and I can handle myself against your father."

"Yes, you would think that," he muttered.

There was a short pause before she shot a hand out and began dragging the confused Malfoy down the hall. "Let's go see him."

"Excuse me," he sputtered, thinking this girl was mad. Hadn't she been trying to avoid this for a while now? "Granger, let go of me," he snapped, ripping his arm away. She turned around and placed her hands on her hips, eyebrow raised.

"Well, I did need you to show me how to get back up there," she snapped. He rolled his eyes but didn't give her a response, and instead brushed right past her and around the corner. They walked for a few minutes before he stopped outside a familiar set of doors and pushed one open.

He looked back at her. "Must you follow me?"

"Must you be difficult? You brought me here to see your father, and getting to him past any stupid Healer's up there will be difficult without you, you know."

The blond paused. "Yes, there should be healer's up there," he muttered.

"Beg pardon?"

"Nothing," he practically growled. Had there been a Healer or more up there the first time Granger would have never gotten as far as she didn't- and neither would he. They would've been stopped on the stairs, but no, Granger had been parading around up there like she owned the bloody place.

_Now I have something else to talk to my mother about. _"We're not going up tonight," he said, glancing at her. "Tomorrow maybe, but I'm tired."

"It's eleven in the morning."

"And I am tired."

She rolled her eyes. "That, I doubt. You brought me here Malfoy, and in case you forgot about that letter, I have other things I need to sort out over the holiday than your stupid problems. Remember the man that's trying to kill me?"

He visibly flinched, and she chose that moment to stop talking. Did Malfoy ever flinch? "I'm still not going upstairs with you right now."

"That's fine," she replied simply, "I can go up myself."

He whipped his head around. "Granger," he called, but she was already striding down the corridor.

* * *

><p><strong>The Burrow<strong>

"Shut _up_ Ronald," Ginny hissed, shoving her brother away from her so she could sit on the edge of his bed and scowl. Harry stood opposite them, the contents of Hermione's written letter laying between the three of them. It had come sometime late last night, but none of them had noticed until this morning, and had just opened it.

"Why could she not tell us," he spat back, crossing his arms. "She's never withheld anything before."

"Well Ron," Ginny snapped, "maybe this time is different!"

"How is it different!?"

"The other times she didn't have a bunch of marks on her arms!"

"That's probably Malfoy's fault," the ginger-haired boy said, lying back to run his hands over his face. "He's the only one that's been near her a lot. You think so too, right Harry?"

Two sets of brown eyes looked up expectantly at the raven-haired boy, who had kept quiet since the arrival of Hermione's short, emotionally messed up note. Half the time she had seemed sad, then angry, then sad. There was no way to really figure out through the words what was going on in her mind. And what's worse, she hadn't told them where she was.

"I'm not sure," he said, sighing as he slumped against the wall and slid down, grasping his hair. "I told you there were marks, but I've been thinking and they all look like scars more than anything else. If Malfoy had been the cause of them then he would've had to start hurting her ages ago. I didn't see anything fresh."

"But all you saw was her arms," Ginny said desperately. "Oh Harry, please don't' start second guessing what you thought! If it's not Malfoy then that means something else happened and that might just be worse. Besides, there could be fresh ones elsewhere."

The two men shot her the same look. "Do you really want there to be fresh ones," Ron asked, looking alarmed.

"No," she replied, sighing. "But if there were then we could really pinpoint it on Malfoy. If there aren't though, then it probably wasn't him, which means someone else did. How do we even know there are more?"

"Something about the way she fidgeted," Harry said, looking away. "She seemed afraid that I would find more, I just can't explain it."

Ginny nodded slowly. "So what do we do? We don't know where she is and this barely tells us how she is," she said, picking up the short letter.

Ron glanced at Harry, who met his gaze carefully. "We're going to go see her," the ginger said.

"How," she asked, sounding unconvinced with this plan.

"We're going to find her," Harry said, standing and declaring this as though it was the simplest thing in the word.

"And how do you propose we do that," she huffed, standing and crossing her arms. The two blank expressions she was met with just let her know that they had a lot of work ahead of them.

* * *

><p>"Don't go up there," he hissed, stepping carefully up the stairs after the hurrying brunette. Did she have to push so much? The girl was going to get them both killed either by Lucius himself or the floorboards giving out.<p>

"I don't want to spend any more time then I have to here," she replied, not glancing back. The truth was, she wasn't sure what she was going to do about Rodolphus. Bringing him to the Manor could be good, but Malfoy may kill her for it. To outlaw that possibility, she had decided to simply go up and see his father as quickly as she could, so that she wouldn't have to deal with Malfoy on top of Lucius on top of Rodolphus. Merlin, she might just be lucky if she survived the bloody holidays.

"I've gathered that," he hissed, continuing to follow her and looking cautiously around for sights of blond hair like his. Really, his father was someone he thought could wait until, well, after the Ball he was sure. Why did Granger have to be so pushy? "But doing this right now is a terrible idea. I should figure out why there are no Healer's stopping our entrance first."

She barely peaked over her shoulder. "Should there be?"

"Yes actually," he snaps, annoyed with her. "Now stop heading up there and come back downstairs."

"No," she replies, ignoring the blond as he responds. She creeps onto the floor and follows the same path she did before, careful to watch her step. She can just hear Draco's quiet footfalls behind her, and his constant muttering about 'impatient Gryffindor's.

She peered around the same corner she had paused at before, but this time found the area vacant. Lucius had obviously moved, but this was as far as she had ventured before. She could feel Malfoy pulling on her sleeve, trying to convince her to turn around. She pulled her arm away however, and continued right on, ever cautious of the creaking floor.

She peered around another corner, thinking it was kind of silly to be creeping around someone's home when one of the residents was walking beside her, before a hand clamped tightly around her waist. "We need to go, now," Malfoy hissed, beginning to pull her back. She squirmed in his grip and turned to glare at him.

"Don't be a baby," she replied, "nothing's going to happen."

"Yes well, the last time we ended up wandering around places we found a body."

"That wasn't in a house someone lived in," Hermione replied, annoyed. There were no bodies up there and Malfoy just apparently had a lot more issues with his father then she had originally believed. "Now stop worrying-"

She was cut off by a figure shoving her into the floor emitting a soft 'ooff' from her. The man pulled out a wand and aimed it at her. She had the tall, severely-ill looking blond disarmed in a moment before Malfoy shoved his father to the side, looking rather livid.

"You cannot attack every bloody person that comes to the Manor," he seethed, extending an arm down to help her up. She was surprised he offered, and took it without question. Lucius's attack hadn't left any real damage; nothing more than a mild headache from hitting the floor.

"She is not a guest," he replied, the once prestigious, finely dressed man now wearing clothing that looked like it had seen better days and his hair was beyond recognition. Wandering down a street Hermione would need to pay quite a bit of attention to recognize the elder Malfoy now. But currently, he seemed intent to glare her down. "She is filth; get the bitch out of my house!"

"Father you barely leave this floor," the blond replied, wrapping an arm around her when the man moved to attack again. He still had no wand, but that didn't mean he couldn't still do some sort of harm. She brushed him off a bit, so his hold wasn't nearly as tight, but didn't remove his arm entirely. "This place is anything but your home. Granger is my guest and I would greatly appreciate it if you did _not _attempt to kill her."

The man still looked livid. "I want her out!"

"Gladly, it's not like I wanted to come and see you this night in the first place," Draco snapped in return, shoving Hermione behind him so she would get the hint to start leaving. She didn't though, and instead stayed just behind him to watch the pair argue.

"You don't understand," he seethed, glaring his son down. "She is bad Draco, so bad, and she must be gone."

"Yes I know, you're hatred for Mudblood's runs deep and such but it matters very little to me. Whether you think she is bad because she is what she is or because you're fucking mind can no longer process the fact that she's human, that's not my problem. She's going to be here for a while and I will not have you killing her. She's here to assist you, you crazy arse, so if anything you should be grateful she hasn't left yet. I mean really, haven't you ever considered the notion of living outside of this cage again?" He turned on his heel, annoyed to discover Granger was still standing there, and placed a hand on her back to move her out of the space, having proved his point that tonight was not a good night to come and attempt this; his father's wand now sitting in his pocket.

The sharp pain that followed shortly caused him to take a sharp intake of breath and make Granger stumble alongside him as something dug into his shoulder. She whipped her head up quickly to notice the piece of glass now hanging out of Malfoy's shoulder and cringed. _Lovely, just fucking lovely. _

"She doesn't belong here," Lucius screamed, pointing at her. "Get out of my house Mudblood, get out!"

Malfoy leaned his uninjured side against the wall, fumbling to find his wand as the dull pain increased the more he moved, digging the glass further into his shoulder when he noticed Granger already had her wand out and had hexed his father. The thud of a body attracted his attention and he looked over to realize the man had been propelled back a ways, now lying on his back as he coughed.

She grabbed his hand, unfortunately the one with the injured shoulder. "Ow! Granger!"

"Sorry," she said, switching hands and not sounding very sincere. She drug him quickly back down the hallway to the stairs, and didn't stop her obsessive pulling until they reached the lower level. Letting go of his hand, she spun around. "We need to get the glass out."

"Yes, that never occurred to me," he snapped, stepping in front of her to take her back to their rooms. It wasn't a terribly deep wound, but he knew it would probably require a potion and that would be easiest to get from his room, where he kept them. She followed behind him, staring at the gash in his skin and wondering when he would realize that his head was spinning and give up; the prick needed to sit down.

It wasn't a long walk, and she was surprised he held up without complaining at all. He shoved the door to his room open and collapsed on his bed, already undoing the buttons on his shirt.

Before she could even comment on how indecent it was to just strip in front of another person, he nodded his head in the direction of a cabinet. "In there," he said sounding tired "is a potion that will help with pain and blood loss. Grab it, will you?"

The calm voice he spoke in was alarming, and she got the feeling this wasn't the first time this had happened. Turning from him quickly, she walked to the indicated cabinet and opened it, finding it had an awful lot more in it then some blood replenishing potion and a painkiller; the large piece of furniture was stocked full with potions, preserved with magic to last a certain amount of time. That made sense at east, if he was constantly brewing these things. Picking up two bottles, she turned to find Malfoy struggling to get the hurt arm out of his shirt without moving that arm and thus adjusting the glass wedged in his skin. Walking back, she attempted to help but he swatted her hand away. "I am perfectly capable of doing this myself," he growled.

Hermione rolled her eyes in response. _Men. _

When he finally had the garment off she set about using her wand to remove the glass. Time in the war had cleaned up her once sloppy work with Healing, and she found that though removing the sharp was a bit difficult by placement, it was certainly nothing impossible. There wasn't even that much blood coating his skin, and she thought that maybe the blood replenishing potion was a bit extreme, but said nothing.

When the sharp was removed she grabbed a cloth and got it wet, playing the wet fabric against his skin. He jumped. "Just what are you doing," he hissed.

"Cleaning it," she replied, deciding to not put much thought into his small jump of surprise. She could always leave him to do this himself, and she always found that meaning up blood manually instead of with magic worked the best; it didn't go unnoticed by her that the entire time she cleaned and then healed the gash that he sat rod still. When she was done she moved from the bed, allowing the blond space as he stood and stretched the slightly sore muscles.

It was't until then that she noticed the other littered marks one his toned back. Unlike her own body that had seemed stitched together before he healed her, the blond had different, scattered marks that had healed nicely and left barely visible lines. They weren't nearly as dominant as her own, but they gently reminded her that he had also fought in a war and endured hardships. She certainly hoped that was why he was torn up, and not because of his malicious father.

"Staring Granger," he asked, not turning around. She rolled her eyes and turned away from him, wanting nothing more than to chuck the bloody rag in her hands as his head. The scoff she emitted a moment later only made him chuckle. "It's not a bad thing," he continued on, lounging out on his bed as she turned to walk from the room, catching sight of him as she attempted to pass, "Can't say I blame you."

"Don't you get tired of saying that," she sighed, looking away. She wasn't embarrassed by the blond's lack of dress, but his constant arrogant phrases revolving around his looks were just plain annoying. She moved to walk past him, when another thud from the only floor above them caught their attention.

"Father's still angry," the blond said with a shrug. She looked at him, surprised by how calm he was taking everything. The trademark Malfoy anger was nowhere to be found, and that was strange indeed.

"Doesn't that scare you," she asked, tilting her head. He wore an expression of indifference from his position on the bed, but she knew it bothered him; it had to. Who wouldn't be bothered by their enraged father physically slicing their skin open and tiring to kill them? But Draco's disconnected look gave away no emotion, and that's how she knew it bothered him. The emotionless expression was nothing but a shield.

He laughed darkly. "Why do you think I won't send you up there alone Granger?" he mocked, rubbing the sore shoulder. "There were reasons I told you to wait. I spent the weeks just before term began with him, and only a few months in Azkaban rotted his mind. He's insane, which is exactly why my mother needs to understand he can't stay here. He hurt me, he would've hurt you, and he has hurt her. The man needs to be gone."

His expression may have held no clues as to how he felt, but the tone of his voice was a giveaway. She had noticed even back during the time she was practically bed-ridden that he didn't hold a lot of affection for his father. Perhaps at a younger age he had- she didn't know- but now it seemed that any love or _compassion _for the man's existence was vacant in the blonds eyes. He just really seemed to hate his father, and if the man was trying to kill you, it made sense.

So she did the only thing she could think of to show him sympathy- well, maybe not the only thing but the best thing she could do in her position. She walked to the blonds side, who's eyebrows drew together in wonder as she bent over in front of him, her lips coming to land softly on his cheek.

"I'm sorry Draco," she said, sighing, "I know what it's like to see your parents in a different light." She straightened, resisting the urge to just rest her head against him and explain, but instead turned quickly and took her leave before the blond could think; he would probably have nothing nice to say.

And for his part, Draco didn't move for a long time. He just stared at the shut door, where the brunette was now residing. His cheek felt warm, and at length he found his fingers touching the skin he had kissed. It was a simple action- and for his part he wasn't sure whether it held deeper feelings than understanding- but it had a big impact.

Malfoy's rarely showed compassion, after all. The fact that someone like Granger would even dare touch him in such a manner was startling but not uninviting. He sat up in bed, chest still bare, and found himself thinking of the strange brunette in the room next door for the majority of the night.

_You never cease to surprise me Granger._

* * *

><p><strong>An: **Thoughts? I love your thoughts :)


	25. You're Face it Haunts

**A/n**: Here's something for you to read: let's find out the history behind the Evans! Enjoy chapter 25, it's one very informative, sweet, suspenseful chapter! Leave a review at the end so I know if the explanation made enough sense! XD Thanks to everyone who has stuck with this story and every one of you that keeps reviewing. We broke 600!

The facebook link is at the top of my profile! Thanks to my beta, **JDeppIsMyLovely**, and enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>You're Face it Haunts<strong>

December 21 came too soon for Hermione. She should've been at home with her family, decorating the tree too close to the actual holiday and flooing Harry and the Weasley's each night to talk before going to bed. Instead she was living in a cold, dark Manor with only Malfoy for company and as far as she could tell- these people did not believe in festive decorations. Yesterday she had been walking up from breakfast with Malfoy and had passed the ballroom; a mixture of silver, green and black had greeted her as she peered in. Seriously, these Pureblood's were way too happy with their house colors from Hogwarts. Didn't people ever just stick with traditional red and green anymore? Before she had really gotten the chance to contemplate things further, Malfoy had said his mother was coming and the pair had hurried off before she lectured them again about Hermione being scarce when the Ball took place.

As if she wanted to attend. Currently, she was seated on the ground, presents around her. She had just sent the presents for Harry and the Weasley's off, having never gotten the chance to give them to them before the holidays began. It had taken quite a bit of energy to send, but in return she had gotten her own presents. She was currently collecting them into a nice little pile to set on her bedside table, the best things she had with her.

Back in October, just before her cancer became too severe to tolerate, she had gone out and bought her parent's presents, not even thinking about them no longer being around. It wasn't until she got back to the Head's common room that she realized they would never get to open them. The thought had made her sob back then, and now it brought tears to her eyes as she turned and looked at the two gifts sitting on the maple desk, a third keeping them company. She had purchased the silver wrapped gift on the last Hogsmeade trip before the holidays, and now wasn't so sure it was a good idea. The present was for Malfoy, but she wasn't sure he deserved it. It had just been a spur of the moment purchase after all, something that had been bought days after he bothered to let her cry on his shoulder, and spill her secrets. She doubted now that any of those presents would reach their owners.

Slightly upset by her own thoughts, she flopped onto the bed. On the other side of the Manor's thick walls she knew Malfoy was wasting time as well, and although she would've enjoyed going to go see the prick, despite how awkward things had been since her slight kiss to his cheek. He tried to ignore the entire ordeal, but she knew the sign of affection bothered him. Malfoy seemed to know no more about affection than a child did, and he had only his cold parents to blame. But hey, like father like son, and Draco had learned from the best how to shut up emotions and always have a stoic expression.

She yawned. Thoughts of Malfoy could always wait until later. For now, she needed to sleep. It wasn't that late in the day, but she was getting worn out from visiting Lucius. The most recent time had gone a bit better- for at least neither of them had left the space bleeding- but they had been up there for only a few minutes, so it wasn't much to judge. Malfoy got snippy with her when they stayed too long, and he never allowed her to get too close to him. It basically killed her entire purpose of being there.

Hopefully he would stop acting so strange and they could get something done soon.

* * *

><p>In the room next door, Draco sat scanning the contents of a letter for a second time. It seemed that his cousin Tonks had finally gotten around to informing him about something with Theodore Nott, and he didn't really like where it was headed.<p>

For one thing, he had also been under an imperius curse just like Annabelle Day had been, and it was suspected that the two were placed under the curse by the same person. That tidbit of information set his mind ill at ease, as he remembered the violent tendencies Nott had exhibited, especially towards Granger. He was damn certain the culprit was none other than his uncle, but Tonks did not go into that in her letter and he wasn't about to bring up an issue he still did not fully understand.

He did wonder though, about some of the things Nott had said to him, and Blaise. The pair may have not been the closest since Malfoy decided to go ahead with the cure for Hermione, but they still talked enough for the blond to know that Theo had sought his Italian friend out, and had been a bit odd around Pansy. The fact that Nott had spoken about things that sounded very close to 'recruiting' was unsettling to say the least, and knowing now that it wasn't just Nott talking but Rodolphus as well made him wonder just how often he had been talking to a real person. Theo was cursed, and Welsh had been fake half the time. Who's to say others were not just imposters as well.

He shook his head at that thought. He may not trust everyone now, but it was a long stretch to say that people like Potter or Blaise had not truly been themselves. Weasley came to mind as an odd character, for though his behavior had been worse than normal, he wasn't all that different. He usually had an awful temper, but if Rodolphus had any hold over the ginger he would never have needed Theo; it would've been enough to have someone like Ron to intrude on her, and he would never have caught the signs. Draco may not have been the best of friends with Theo, but he knew how he usually acted. Ron Weasley was someone he only ever saw during school hours- and the occasional after school detention- but he would never have known what made him tick. Unusual behavior from the ginger's standpoint would've been harder to acknowledge, especially if he went into her room and shut the door like he usually did. No, Weasel would never have been another one of Lestrange's victims, simply because he was too much like himself.

That did nothing to answer his questions though. What incentive did Rodolphus really have? He understood that something happened with Martha and Andrew Evans that apparently angered him, and thus he set out to kill Hermione's parents then torture and kill her, but his plan had been interrupted somehow. So what had to happen to make someone as twisted and racist as Rodolphus snap, over the mere deaths of muggles? He could simply not wrap his head around that. He knew he needed to go and confront Granger about it again, but after her chaste kiss on his cheek a few days prior he wasn't sure he wanted to. It stirred up emotions in him that he sometimes forgot existed.

But that was a bit off topic, wasn't it? Clearing his head, he tried to refocus on the letter at hand. Tonks had asked about any strange behavior and he was going to owl her everything he knew, mentioning Blaise and he could inform her if he so chose to. He thought it may be a good idea, since the prick had some odd behavior towards Pansy that would be hard to identify between Nott's real feelings and what the spell caused him to do.

Draco sighed, getting up from his bed and tossing the letter onto the nearby bedside table. Theo was a problem, but his letter was already sent and so long as he was under the custody of the Ministry, he could do no further damage. It was Rodolphus that was the dangerous one, and anyone else that he placed under the imperius spell. That was what he needed to be worrying about. Anything that had happened with Pansy could wait until the Ball, which was just three days away; an event he was still dreading. Just yesterday his mother had tried to set him up at the last minute with a pretty hazel- eyed Pureblood visiting from Russia. He thought it was the most ridiculous thing.

Walking to his window, he rested his head on the cool glass. Winter had set in finally, and the ground was now sleeked in snow. The glass was colder than it had been since their arrival, and the entire castle had cooled quite a bit. There were fires in every room now. Staring out at the landscape, he couldn't help but think how nice it would be to step outside and let the falling snow swallow him, taking away all the damn stress. But no, he couldn't do that, for he still had too many things to deal with that involved too many other people. But mostly, they included Hermione.

He groaned and turned so his back hit the window, and he slid down the wall until he was sitting. It was bad enough that Granger stirred emotions in him from her simple little kiss, but now he accidently referred to her as Hermione in his mind on occasion? That wasn't good, for he would never allow himself to be with her in any way. It wasn't about the blood status anymore, it was about whom they were as people; he was cold and troubled, she was lost and troubled. Troubled people never really fit together all that well, or at least they never did in his mind.

He resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall. They were at the Manor, the deal was nearly over. Things should be drawing to a close, right? Not heating up and becoming more complicated!

_But since when has anything been easy?_

* * *

><p>"Do you think it's too much," she asked, twirling for what had to be the ninth time. They had been in the same gown store for nearly three hours, and she had tried on perhaps eighty dresses, only coming to rest on this particular one because Blaise had thrown it at her out of irritation.<p>

"It's the prettiest," Blaise assured his girlfriend, hoping his words would prompt her to buy the stupid gown so they could be on their way. Really, why was this so important to her?

Pansy beamed. "I agree; I want this one."

"Splendid," he replied, standing to take the gown as she shimmied out of it. They were in a private room, and he was ready to run to the cash register and get the thing before she changed her mind. As soon as the garment touched his fingers, he was out of there, leaving behind an eye-rolling Pansy.

He had just finished paying when she appeared at his side, her coat pulled tight around her. Diagon Alley was frigid today, and they were both ready to hurry three shops down to the Floo and return to his Manor with the purchase. Offering her his arm, they stepped out onto the cold streets, late holiday shoppers slipping this way and that on the icy ground. They stepped carefully, attempting to avoid the same fate.

The couple was nearly there when a short, slightly rounded man bumped hard enough into Pansy to send her sprawling. Blaise failed to catch her while trying to keep himself upright, and glared at the man as he attempted to move pass, obviously not giving a damn if she had fallen or not.

"Watch it," he snapped giving the man a hard shove. He stumbled, and the Italian used that moment to offer his girlfriend his hand and help her stand up. She glared at the man through a line of thick fringe.

The man saved himself from falling, and in the process the wind caught his hood and ripped it back slightly. The face below caused Blaise to pale on sight, but Pansy hardly noticed. "Could you possibly be any ruder," she spit, attempting to grab Blaise's hand, but he would not move. She glanced between him and the man, wondering just what was going on.

"It's quite a pleasure to see you again Mr. Zabini," the man said, smiling the same, wicked smile he had often given to Hermione in secret, before shutting the door to her bedroom and blocking off her help. "Who is this lovely lady?"

Pansy opened her mouth to chirp a reply, but Blaise pulled her back, drawing his wand. She raised her eyebrows.

"The pleasure is all mine," the Italian said, leaning against the building beside him. He pulled Pansy further behind him, and it was then that she decided something was truly wrong and drew her wand as well. "I must say, this is a surprise. Do tell me Welsh, exactly how did you return from the dead?"

* * *

><p>It was nearly eleven when the door to Draco's room opened, and he looked up to see a tired Hermione entering from their adjoining door. He raised an eyebrow as she shut it, ignoring his curious expression, and walked over to a chair near where he was sitting. His expression didn't change the entire time.<p>

"Hello."

His eyebrows drew together. "Really Granger? You bothered to walk all the way in here- ignoring me- to say hello? I'm certain you could've managed that from the doorway."

"Probably," she said with an indifferent shrug, pulling mindlessly at a loose thread on her pajama shirt- which was littered with ugly kittens, much to Draco's disgust. "So what are you doing?"

He raised his eyebrow this time, placing the quill he had been using on the desk and leant back in his chair, giving her one of those unreadable expressions. "Granger, what do you think you are doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Cute and stupid just doesn't work for you Granger. What is it you want?"

She rolled her eyes. "I got lonely."

"You got lonely?"

"Yes," she snapped, crossing her arms. "This place is big and barren; there's nothing to do. It's too cold to go walking outside, and although there are plenty of books here even I need to take a break. Sue me for wanting a bit of company."

"And you think I'll be good company," he asked, unable to refrain a smirk. The uneasiness he had been feeling around her was gone, but those damn new emotions were back again. He would have to do something to make those go away at some point.

The brunette shrugged. "You offer more company than my bedpost, so I suppose that can be considered good."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine then Granger, if you are looking for company, you can have it, but you must provide the entertainment."

She frowned. "I don't have anything to entertain you with."

_Oh how wrong you are. _He shrugged. "I have wizards' chess."

She made a face. "I can't stand that game; too many bad memories."

"Over wizard's chess?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"Then tell me about it," he said, leaning forwards in his chair and raising an eyebrow. She smiled, thinking he looked nicer when the cold exterior was dropped. That taken into consideration, she decided divulging into the secrets of her years at Hogwarts couldn't be that awful.

They proceeded to spend the next four hours talking about the silly things they did in their earlier years of schooling that got them into trouble with the teachers. Some were funny, some were scary.

It wasn't until Hermione yawned that the blond even bothered to check the time. "Granger, you know it's just past three."

Her eyes widened. "Really? I hadn't noticed."

He smirked. "Neither did I?" They had moved to sit on his bed some time ago, and he now took advantage of the situation and fell back on the covers stretching. She watched for a moment, before realizing what she was doing and looked away, cheeks red.

Draco chuckled. "Don't look so embarrassed Granger, it's just a stretch. Far naughtier things can happen on beds."

She scoffed. "Thanks for the mental picture Malfoy."

"Anytime," he said smirking as he changed positions so he could slide beneath the covers. "Now either continue with the story telling Granger or go to sleep.

Her eyebrows drew together, much like his had some time ago. Did he mean here? She decided to jump over the awkward topic entirely and chose the other option. "I'm not sure I have any more stories to tell."

He shifted positions, so he was lying lazily on his side looking at her. "Tell me about the Evans then," he challenged, hoping to not scare her off. He watched her eyes widen and she shifted her legs as though to get up, but he moved and caught her hand. "That is if you want to," he muttered, hoping he didn't sound like the sappy git he was beginning to feel like. Merlin, something was wrong with him tonight.

She smiled softly, then let go of his hand to lean back against the bedpost. "Why are you so curious about them?"

He shrugged, suppressing a yawn. "You mentioned them once upon a time. Something bad happened involving them, and it landed you with… cancer? Dead parents? I'm not sure which, but I wouldn't mind understanding more of this."

She flinched at his word choice, but chose to say nothing about it. Instead, she moved her eyes down to stare at the bed sheets. Martha and Andrew Evans had never been close to her- she had barely known them- and it no longer had to do with her not being ready to explain things, simply that she wasn't sure who to trust anymore with her secrets. Was it smarter to tell Malfoy or her friends, who were all currently unhappy with her?

"I didn't kill them," she said softly, and he lifted his head a bit to stare at her, surprised she had said anything at all.

"I didn't kill them," she said, a bit louder now. He sat up in bed, watching her closely. There were no tears trying to drip down her face like he was used to; rather, there was only an expression of pain. Her arms came to push her hair away from her face, and she shifted, practically falling off the bed when the bedpost was no longer directly behind her.

"Granger come up here before you fall," he said, meaning to snap out his words, but they came out gently and he inwardly hit himself for it. This girl was very possibly going to turn him into some giant teddy-bear loving flower giving bloke.

She didn't meet his eyes, didn't even respond, just crawled up the bed and sat beside him on top of the blankets, her back against the headboard just like his. They didn't speak for several moments.

"It was a misunderstanding."

"What was?"

She looked up at him. "How they died."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Go on."

"I was driving," she said, twiddling her thumbs nervously. "I always take this back road home. They used to live right by me, on that back road that was really only a street away. If I opened my window in my room and looked out I could see their house among the others, and sometimes we would wave good morning. I didn't know the Evans very well; we were just pleasant to each other."

"As Martha's son- Andrew- grew up they found he had this muggle disability called dyslexia; it makes it harder for people who have it to read and write, because they confuse letters like 'b' and 'd', and 'q' and 'p'. I would go down sometimes and tutor him in the summer when I had time."

She was quiet then for a moment, and he wondered if that was all that she was going to say. "It was just after the war, barely a month after when I went down to do my next tutoring session with him. He had gotten into some children shows, and they had good guys and bad guys. They were always fighting; he thought it was the best." He heard her breath hitch, and glanced over to see if she was crying. There was perhaps one tear, and he wondered if more would come. "I brought him something muggles call comic books, one I had gotten in America when I was little. Oh, I don't even remember what it was about. But it had the good guys and the bad, just like he loved. I don't think Martha liked it very much, but it made him smile."

The next thing that happened caught him completely off guard; she reached over and grasped his hand- possibly for comfort. This girl had more affection in her hand than he seemed to in his entire body. "That was the last time I saw them alive. When I went over the next morning to tutor him, they were dead." She said the statement bluntly, but he felt her shudder as she spoke.

"I didn't know what to do," she whispered. "I had just gotten home, gotten away from all of the death, and I walked into another house full of it. I didn't even scream Malfoy; I just stumbled out. And then I believe I was sick. I ran to the house and called the police- they are like muggle Auror's." She sniffled, finally turning to look at him. "But I didn't kill them; I don't know how they died."

He frowned, unconsciously rubbing circles on the back of her hand. "But then, how does my uncle fit in?"

She laughed bitterly. "That's where this whole problem starts, isn't it? Like I said Malfoy, it was a misunderstanding. I reported the murders, but I also had to go into questioning. Obviously, I was proven innocent. But my name was the only one to ever appear alongside theirs in muggle papers; maybe the Daily Prophet as well, I don't know if they ran an article or not, but I was the only person seemingly associated with them. He could've read anything to come to the conclusion that I had covered my tracks Malfoy- and I know he read something, because he mentioned reading it someplace- but the man's right out of Azkaban. He's a fugitive, and he's been in one of the worst prisons in the world for how long?" She was shaking her head. "He came to my house one night, and he didn't listen. I was upstairs asleep when he arrived; how he got through the wards, I don't know. He must've spent time breaking them down or something. But he got in, and he murdered my parents before he ever bothered making enough noise to tell me he was there."

It wasn't until he felt moisture attack one of his fingers that he realized she was crying as she talked. Deciding he had already ruined her perspective of him being heartless- and that just then he didn't honestly care- he removed his hand from hers and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her closer. He wasn't sure if she would enlighten him on anymore or not, but he didn't think he could keep standing by and watching her cry.

"It was all misunderstood," she muttered. "He killed my parents because he was misinformed, and he didn't spare me a moment to listen and let me explain. He was rash, cruel, and he tore me apart. He was certain he knew the explanation, and that was enough for him. I killed the woman he had an affair with, and his half-blood son, and whether he cared about them or not didn't matter anymore. A _Mudblood _killed his family and he couldn't stand that. But I didn't do anything!"

"I know," he said softly, resting his head on top of hers, as she finally caved and buried her face into his chest. "I can see that now."

She mumbled something into his chest that he didn't understand, but he didn't move her to get an answer. He just left his head where it was, his hand rubbing her back softly as she cried.

It really was sick after all, that the man could kill so brutally without even understanding. The question in the back of his mind did stick though, as to who did really kill them, but he didn't voice it. He was still too busy pondering that inwardly, and the cancer, which he would ask about as soon as she calmed down. He wasn't sure where it fit in yet, just that it became more of a puzzle every time she opened her mouth. If the cancer had never existed, it was very possible that he would've never even known about the circumstances she was faced with; taking care of her had really been the reason he got so involved, because he was constantly with her and small things slipped by. It occurred to him that he still had a bundle of letters residing in his desk drawer- something he had brought home with him for the holidays for no apparent reason- and as he sat there rubbing Granger's back, he decided he should burn them. They were her secrets, her horrors, and she would tell him only what she was comfortable with. Who was he to invade her privacy?

At length, she detached herself from him and whipped at her eyes, slightly ashamed at her outburst. She had cried on him more than enough, and he had to be getting sick of it. "Sorry," she muttered.

"You don't have to apologize; I wasn't going to be cruel about anything."

She looked up and gave him a soft smile, thankful that for once the prick Malfoy was nowhere to be found; he could actually be nice when he tried to be. "Well, thanks for listening I suppose." She moved to get off the bed, but he caught her wrist lightly.

"I have a question actually."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, feeling rather tired after her story to Malfoy- or at least, everything she knew. "Oh?"

"Sit back down," he said, and she obeyed, if only because she was tired and cold and his bed had become oh so warm in the chilly Manor. He seemed to notice her snuggling against the bed sheets, and decided to not freak her out by offering her to come beneath the covers with him, but instead accio-d a blanket from the other side of his room and draped it over her, not meeting her yes. Thankfully, she did not make any comments about the action.

Once thoroughly warm, she looked at him. "So what was your question then?"

He cocked his head to the side, his nice, clean shirt now wet and wrinkled. "How does the cancer fit in? Sarcoma usually arises from a jump in growth, but you still seem to pretty small."

She sighed, having expected this question for a long time. "You know there are theories about Sarcoma, right?"

"Of course," he said, as though it should be obvious, and she could only roll her eyes at the blond.

"Some aren't proven, but they are possible. In all honesty, I'm not sure if this is the reason I got cancer, and I may never really understand why I developed it, for I doubt your uncle will do much explaining as to what happened when I ended up unconscious-"

"Unconscious," he cut in, sounding rather unhappy about that bit of information. She couldn't fathom why he would care about that detail, but didn't wait for him to ask questions and overlooked his interruption.

"-but the cancer is 'supposedly' able to be developed through high levels of stress, trauma, and other such things. Obviously, I experienced both, and although they fit in with what happened to me, I'm not at all sure that's really what it was. I'm not sure if I even believe those explanations, just that they are some that I was able to dig up. But he cursed me multiple times, so I'm not sure. It could have been a reaction from the combination of the spells; you've seen the scars, you should know how dense some patches were."

"So I have," he said, glancing away from her. The topic seemed to be bothering him a bit, although she couldn't place why.

"It's just a possibility, and truly I don't understand it all, but it started bothering me not long after I got away from him, so I just figure it's something he did."

"It makes sense," he replied, running his fingers through his hair. "What do you mean escape?"

She pursed her lips, and looked away. "He kept me locked in the basement for four days without my wand before I stole it back and escaped. My parents… their bodies were upstairs. So I got out and ran. I just ran until I found somewhere to hide and cleaned myself up. From there I called the muggle police."

He reached over and squeezed her hand; a gesture that he had realized was becoming too familiar. She seemed to take comfort from it however, and squeezed back, sinking down on the mattress a bit as she laid her head on the headboard, eyes closed.

"Granger, this isn't your room you know."

"Mhmm," she muttered, and he wondered if she were truly that exhausted from letting everything off her shoulders or if she were simply delaying moving.

"Well then, you best move before you fall asleep," he muttered, thankful he had donned his own sleep bottoms earlier, having opted to keep his shirt on while he studied Tonks note for a third time, until the brunette had decided to open his door and start this whole ordeal. He hoped his notion to sleep beside her would propel her to move.

"Mhmm," she muttered again, sagging further onto the sheets. He scoffed, and undid his shirt before removing it completely. He would not be sleeping in that, whether Granger was sleeping beside him or not.

When he was finished, he looked back and realized she was completely out, sleeping only under the semi-thick blanket he had chucked at her. Muttering a swear word or two, he grabbed the sheets lodged under her and pulled them out, throwing them over her body. He would not wake in the middle of a night to a freezing, irritated Granger; this was crazy enough. He barely recognized himself as he climbed in beside her and shared the same sheets, not at all propelled to shove her off the mattress.

Closing his eyes, he sighed; something was certainly changing.

* * *

><p>The following morning Hermione woke slowly, comfortable in the pleasantly warm bed she was currently lying in. This was the most comfortable that she had been since arriving at Malfoy Manor. Snuggling further into the covers, she hoped for a bit more sleep.<p>

The moment she felt the bed shift, her eyes flew open and she whipped around, coming face to chest with a very naked, very pale, toned chest. Her eyes widened, and traveled up the defined torso to lock onto Malfoy's face; the prick was still asleep.

Her temper flared. What had he done to her? What had she let him do? A splurge of memories invaded her mind, and the events from last night spilled out before her eyes. It seemed that nothing had happened, save her divulging a lot of information and trust into him, and the series of events ended with her eyes drifting shut, Malfoy giving her an irritated look.

She quickly noted that she still had on just as much as the previous night, and with the sheets pulled out his body as they were, she could also see that he had bottoms on as well. Good; that was one less thing to yell at him for. But whatever had given Malfoy of all people the idea to let her sleep there? Half the time they spoke he was insulting her- although the amount of insults had dropped quite a bit. Still though, it seemed odd for his behavior to change so much. Deciding she was too tired to read into it, she slowly laid back down. Sleeping in the same bed as Malfoy was quite odd, and now that she was fully awake she could truly process just how strange it was, but it was comfortable and warm and she was still physically tired. He had allowed her to stay through the night, so lying down and catching a bit more sleep couldn't hurt, right?

It had barely been five minutes when the floo roared to life, and Hermione squeaked, shoving her head under the covers. Unfortunately, she had yet to fall asleep. The quick action and noise startled Malfoy, who rolled over to peer past the lump that was Granger right at the surprised face of Blaise Zabini.

He groaned. "Don't you ever come at a decent time?"

"This is a decent time, its nearly noon," the Italian replied, barely repressing a smirk. "Although, if I had known I would catch you in bed at this hour with Granger, I would've come later."

"Zabini," he cautioned, feeling her stiffen beneath the sheets at his friends words. It obviously bothered her, although he wasn't sure just why it did. "Come back later, will you?"

His expression darkened. "I can't Draco; this is important."

"How important," he grumbled, wishing the dolt would go away. He needed to talk to the brunette hiding under his covers before she hexed him for keeping her there. It was unnerving enough to slowly feel her inching closer until she was resting beside him. Now that was odd.

"Quite," he replied, staring at the hidden lump. "Granger you can come out now; I've already seen you. Besides, this may spike your interest as well."

She pulled the covers off enough to reveal her face. "It's not what you think."

Blaise raised an eyebrow, looking between the pair. "Sure it's not- but Granger? Honestly, I don't need to know, but you need to know this."

"Well what is it then," Draco snapped, sitting up completely and crossing his arms as he leaned against the headboard.

The Italian wet his lips, glancing between the two supposed enemies. "I was out with Pansy yesterday, and we ran into a peculiar character."

"Get to the point Zabini," Draco griped. His friend only rolled his eyes in return.

Instead of addressing Draco however, he turned to Hermione. "I was under the impression your Healer died Granger."

Her face paled and Draco sat up a bit straighter. "Yes," she said tentatively.

"Funny," the Italian mused, looking as far from amused as possible, "because we ran into him yesterday, and he tried to kill us."

* * *

><p><strong>An: **Thoughts people?


	26. My Once Pleasant Dreams

**Important**** A/n**: So guys, this is how updates are probably going to work. It will be every week **to** two weeks between updates. Life is getting really full and I cannot guarantee an update every week, but I can certainly get one every two weeks. If I have the time to do an update in a week, it will certainly be done, but not always anymore. Hope you keep reading anyways :D

I have a blog now; it's not centered around fanfictions, more my own work. There's nothing up there yet but it will have my own work soon you guys. If you are at all interested, just go ahead and check it out.

The facebook link is at the top of my profile! Thanks to my beta, **JDeppIsMyLovely**, and enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>My Once Pleasant Dreams<strong>

_"Funny," the Italian mused, looking as far from amused as possible, "because we ran into him yesterday, and he tried to kill us."_

Hermione blinked several times, processing what Blaise had said. That made _no _sense, considering the only person who had posed as Welsh would not be doing so again, not with his death already having been announced. Why would this person parade around Diagon Alley if he knew that it was under a bad disguise; Rodolphus had been acting cautious lately, and would not throw away so much planning on a horrible idea like this? Besides, they were arranging a time to meet and she doubted he would risk being arrested beforehand.

"That's ridiculous," Draco muttered, tossing the blankets off his lower body so he could stand. The git was clad in only boxers, and he turned his back on the two people in his room, walking towards his wardrobe. Hermione bunched the blankets closer to her frame, not afraid of Blaise hurting her but conscious of how cold it had been last night and the affect it had on her body.

"We all know that Welsh is dead," the blond continued, throwing miscellaneous pieces of clothing around the room. Hermione assumed he was aggravated and his clothing was receiving the rough treatment in response; in her opinion, there were too many fine silks and linens scattered around the floor to be throwing them like he was. It looked like a lot of money getting quite wrinkled. "We all also know that Lestrange is not going to chance getting caught by posing as someone. So what are you telling us Zabini? A Welsh look-alike tried to murder you and Pansy, and you escaped unscratched?"

The Italian's lip twitched, an action that was not caught by Draco but didn't pass his brunette companion. She narrowed her eyes at his odd reaction. "You would think so wouldn't you?"

The blond finally turned around, having found a dark green shirt that he hastily buttoned. "What are you going on about?"

He didn't respond, just grabbed the neck of his shirt and pulled it to the side, revealing a wicked looking mark. Hermione, interested, dropped the sheets back down to the bed and sat up on her knees, peering at the blemish.

"Is that the Dark Mark," she asked in a hoarse voice, looking alarmed as she took in the blunt symbol. He didn't respond here either, just cringed. "How did you get that?"

He scowled, a look that was so close to the expression Draco often wore that it was startling. "You would be amazed what one will take when faced with few options."

She frowned, and opened her mouth to ask just what that meant, when Draco walked up, trousers draped over an arm and interrupted her. "I see," he said critically, studying the mark for a moment before his friend hid it again. "You've already recovered from it?"

"It's not deep," the Italian responded, eyes dancing towards the Gryffindor for a moment. "I don't believe it was intended to be everlasting. The attacker didn't ask much and didn't stay for long once he was finished carving it."

"And you didn't think to hex him or something before he escaped?"

Blaise glared at his blond haired friend. "You don't think I attempted that? The only reason I even fucking allowed him to carve _anything _into my flesh because it was either that or I could let him kill Pansy." He shrugged. "It's not like I expect you to understand though."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "What does that mean?"

Blaise said something, but the girl who was still on her knees on the bed tuned him out. She could sense and argument coming between the two, and didn't think she wanted to be around when it became a full fledge mess. Scooting across the bed she slid off the side, blocking the conversation out. She was passing the window when she noted there was an owl there, looking perturbed. She could only imagine it had shown up sometime in the night and been ignored. How had they both slept through the incisive noise a beak makes on glass? Opening the window quietly, she allowed the owl to fly in before shutting the window, and hurrying out. She would simply have to bug Malfoy for details about the important bits of this conversation later, but it was just too early to deal with this nonsense.

She didn't even check to see who the letter was from.

Shutting the door between the rooms, she slid down it. Just last night she had slept in the bed of Malfoy and survived. If her friends didn't already hate her, they would if they ever found out.

* * *

><p>"Pansy's fine though," Draco inquired for perhaps the third time. He had heard Blaise's story twice now, and although it was interesting to a degree, he couldn't figure anything out. If Hermione was Lestrange's initial target, then why target two Slytherin's who were not even close to her? It made no sense.<p>

He nodded grimly. "She's with Daphne right now; I wouldn't leave her alone. He didn't really hurt her, just kicked her a few times. I still don't know what he wanted." The Italian ran a hand over his face. "I reported it, so someone will be around to question yes and hopefully do something about it later."

The blond nodded slowly. "Why do you think this person posed as Lestrange?"

Zabini shrugged. "I'm not sure. If Nott wasn't in the custody of the Ministry, then I would say he was behind this. Considering though that this person knew who to be to throw me off, just says that they must have assumed that at least I, if not Pansy as well, know more than the newspapers."

"Know about Rodolphus and what he did to Granger," Draco muttered, running a hand through his hair, now fully dressed. "That girl has caused me so much bloody trouble."

His friend couldn't help it, so Blaise openly laughed at the blonds comment. He received a scowl in return, but all the Italian could do was shake his head. "When are you going to drop the act?"

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "What act?"

Blaise sighed, exasperated. "The 'I hate Granger and cannot tolerate all the problems she has put me through, even though at any given time I have had the full opportunity to leave her in the dust like the prick I am but I haven't because I am suppressing deeper emotions for her' act."

The blond scoffed. "That's insane; I don't feel anything for Granger other then irritation."

"Then why was she in your bed when I arrived?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line. "That is none of your concern."

Zabini cocked an eyebrow of his own. "So something did happen."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Shut it, Zabini," he hissed, turning away to grab his wand. Merlin, his friend could sometimes be exceptionally bothersome. Besides, why would he divulge information onto his 'dear' friend when he hardly understood what happened himself? The only reason she was even there in his bed was because she fell asleep!

"We're off topic," he continued, running his fingers through his hair. "Why is someone impersonating a dead man?"

Blaise pressed his lips together. This was obviously Draco's way of avoiding saying anything, and he didn't like it. Skipping around topics wasn't good, and this buildup of tension between the pair had been going on for months. He was sick of watching it, but unfortunately, the git was right and they had more pressing matters at hand. He would just have to pop the question again with the blond was relaxed.

"I wonder whatever happened to Rodolphus anyways," Blaise mused, joining in the conversation. The mark still hurt, but it was nothing big. Whatever the motive for carving the mark into his skin had been, it was lost to everyone else; no one understood it. Not him, not Granger and not Malfoy.

They had a lot of things to discuss indeed. If there was still a motive to kill the brunette then this had to be some sort of warning, right?

* * *

><p>It took a lot of effort, but he made it. Bound by a distant relation, the wards of Malfoy Manor had allowed him entrance without alerting anyone of his presence. He had Bella to thank for that and Narcissa for marrying the blond bastard.<p>

It was frigid, and he used the wand to cast a heating charm. Who's was it? He had no idea. All he knew was that it worked well enough for him and would assist him in dangerous tasks, very, very soon. Wandering further down the dark path he had once used as a Death Eater, he eventually stopped, able to see what he wanted to.

Malfoy Manor. The girl had mentioned this place, and he was pretty sure she would be residing there for the holidays. Now that he was through the wards, it would be simple to find her room and kill her quickly. But he didn't want that. The Mudblood had been responsible for the death of Martha and Andrew, and for that she would pay. It wasn't that he ever loved the woman who bore his halfblood child, or the child for that matter, but simply that he had been in need a of a special type of companionship once he got out of that fucking prison.

Oh, and he had so many plans when he first left. Meeting Theodore Nott that summer near the outskirts of his own Manor had been by sheer chance. The boy, blinded by a jealousy that he could not embody the same aloof manner, the same arrogance that his blond nephew could, had been quick to side with him on a plan. Years of being in Draco Malfoy's shadow had made him bitter. The once dark, proud Pureblood had fallen out of Theo's favor the day he did not kill Dumbledore, and had since not been as admired. In fact, that day Nott had told him just why a hate for his once dear friend had begun.

"_He doesn't deserve what he has," the teen had spat, still standing on the safe side of his wards. In fact, they had never spoke on the same side of that boundary when they met at his home. It was only just before school started that they met face to face, without barriers. _

_Rodolphus had been running from what he expected was either an Auror trainee or a well trained businessman, when he ended up on the Nott property outskirts. Whoever owned the property next door did not take kindly to visitors. He had happened upon the boy, practicing Quidditch and Nott had been the first to speak. When asked how he escaped Azkaban a second time, Lestrange had refused to answer, and he had seen admiration in the young boys eyes that he at least kept some things to himself, unlike Draco who constantly gloated or bullied. _

_And Draco had quickly become the topic. Nott had a very strong opinion on his distant nephew, and it was a fact that had sparked the man's interest. He had lost track of Hermione Granger only four days prior, and had since fallen off the Wizarding world's map, but it wouldn't be a long departure from the worlds prying eyes. Although Rodolphus never mentioned the thigns htat had transpired between him, the Mudblood, and her family, he could already see a plan forming. His nephew may not have been close to the girl by any means, but if the curses he had thrown at her had any affect, then Draco would at least be involved. How could his nephew resist taunting the girl then?_

"_You have quite a bit of hate for my nephew," the man said, whipping back greasy hair. If his dark, dangerous appearance at all worried the boy, he did not show it. _

"_I didn't used to, but now I certainly do. I hate him nearly as much as Potter's Mudblood."_

_Now _that _was interesting. "And why do you hate her so much?"_

_The brown haired boy had laughed harshly. "Do you even have to ask? An entire fucking war ensues to kill her kind and _she _survives? She was in Malfoy Manor and those idiots let her escape! The bitch should've been killed in a moment, yet they allowed her the opportunity to escape. Now she's still alive. If I wasn't in school, if there was someone I could blame it on, I would strangle the girl in the hallways. She simply does not belong."_

_The boy's firey hatred towards someone that Rodolphus had many problems with was truly interesting. Intruiged by the boy's hate, he took a chance. "Do you fly out here often boy?"_

_He shrugged. "Sometimes. Why do you ask?"_

_Smiling a crooked smile, the dark wizard bore his ugly, discolored teeth. "I have a proposition for you. If you help me with a problem I'm currently in, I'll help you one- up my nephew."_

_Suspicion had been evident across the boys features, but Rodolphus had seen the gears turning in his head. He was considering the deal, if only because it offered the chance to get something over Draco, who seemed to embody nearly all of Nott's hate. _

"_How do you suppose we go about that?" he had asked suspiciously. _

_Laughing, the escapee had given his head a good shake. "You will see. Come out here tomorrow and we will discuss things."_

_And the following day, Theodore Nott had been outside, waiting for his arrival, and they had talked._

The boy had served his purpose. He had impersonated people, caused Granger pain, and set his nephew on edge. Draco Malfoy may not have been a key target when he first got out of prison, but now he had become one, simply for getting too involved with the Mudblood.

But Nott had been too cocky. He had believed every single word fed to him, and then taken it upon himself to take the bullying further. He had tried to push Granger too far, tried to get in her face too much, and Rodolphus was nearly certain that had been his downfall. Had he stepped back in line and not constantly of gone up to the dorm room, he would not be in Ministry Custody. And Rodolphus would not be on his own.

He smirked. Of course, Nott's friends were useless when it came to recruiting help, with Zabini ignoring the request and Malfoy getting too cozy with the enemy, but his own friends were not too bad. He still knew a few Death Eater's that escaped imprisonment in Azkaban, and had recently met with one.

Amycus Carrow was still as vile as ever, a fact about his old friend that he loved.

But that was a different topic entirely. Crouching in the familiar bushes that he had often stood behind when watching trainee Death Eater's duel, he studied the Manor. It looked the same, so remarkably similar, that he would not be surprised if he went inside and found everything in the same manner as the last time he was there. But he knew that would not happen. There was a monster living on the third floor of that place now; a monster that had once been the collected mind of Lucius Malfoy. Things had changed in Malfoy Manor, despite its appearance, and he would need to play things safe.

And playing things safe met not waiting around in the bushes until he had the ideal plan. Stepping back, he checked to make sure he could see no one outside and then turned on his heel, walking back the way he had come.

He would see her again soon enough. Reaching into his pocket, he stared down at the crumbled invitation to Narcissa's Ball, a trinket he had picked up just the other day. Yes, this would come in handy indeed.

* * *

><p>Hermione was bored. She had left Malfoy's room sometime ago, and after replaying the strange sleeping situation in her mind a couple of times she had concluded that nothing had happened. Still though, it would make things severely awkward between the two of them, and knowing that Blaise Zabini had caught them in bed together only made things worse.<p>

She sighed, playing with the curls in her hair. She had finished yet another book, and was no closer to seeing Lucius than her first day. Granted, she had been there a total of four so far, but she still felt like she was getting nothing done. Of course, she could always go upstairs under a cloaking charm and study him herself. Maybe she could even stupefy him and examine him. That would make Malfoy happy, right? She would've forfilled the requirements, and then she could go home.

_It's not a bad idea I suppose. _Donning her slippers- for she may have changed into regular clothes, but shoes seemed unnecessary at the time- she turned and made to leave the room when several raps on her window caught her attention. Spinning around, she was revealed to see it was an owl, not a person, and lowered her wand she had whipped out.

_Stop being so jumpy! You have not even fully set a time with Rodolphus yet! If he plans to avoid this place, he will wait. _Exhaling a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, she walked to the window and allowed the bird in, realizing it was Ginny's owl once again. Thankfully this time though, the letter tied to the birds leg was not red like a Howler, and she exhaled yet another breath as she reached over and gave the animal some seed, something that had been in the room to begin with.

She reached out and took the letter, untying it, only to find that the contents was exceptionally short.

_Hermione~_

_Floo us. We need to talk. All of us- Harry, Ron and myself- are worried about you. What's happened? We couldn't even locate you. Harry got this idea in his head that we could find you and confront you about those marks he saw on your arms- and yes, both I and Ronald know, so don't even try and deny it- but his idea did not work out so well. We have no idea where you are, except that wherever it is, it's heavily warded. Please floo us! I really want to know what has happened! I'm worried Hermione, I am. You should see Harry and Ron; they have been pulling their hair out for days._

_I'm not going to go into any long explanations because there is simply too much to say. Please, floo us. You don't have to come over if you don't want to, but at least _talk_. We want to help you. I'm not sure where you are or what you are doing, but be safe._

_~Ginny_

She felt her heart sink. They were worried, stressed-out, and trying to find her, when in reality she was probably in one of the safest- ironically- places she could be right now. The wards were specific and no one could enter the grounds without being permitted. That made her sigh just a bit, because that also met none of her friends could storm through the fireplace and demand answers.

The brunette sat down slowly. What was she going to do? She could always floo them, but what would she say? How could she begin? And would they even believe her? She had been delaying this as long as possible, and now, staring down at her newest letter, she wondered if ignoring this cry to help would make her friends begin to distance themselves from her because she kept such big, terrible things private. That was certainly not something she wanted to happen, but she couldn't figure it out. How did you tell your three best friends that you let the enemy in on the secret beforehand? They would flip, especially Ron.

Lying down on her bed, she ran her hands over her temples. It appeared she had nothing else to do, and the time had come to come clean. Gulping, she wondered if Malfoy would accidently walk in and find her gone.

_Perhaps I should let him know._

That was a simply ridiculous thought, considering that she owed nothing to him. Moreover, why would she care if he came in and found her gone? Knowing the git, he would take up residence in one of her comfortable chairs and wait for her return, just to bitch at her. That was certainly a reason _not _to alert him.

But the reality of it was, was that she wanted him to come with. She wanted to have somebody on her side who already knew the story and wouldn't call her a liar, and wouldn't get mad at her for not telling them ages ago. She wanted someone to lean on, and someone who would stick with her- even if it had to be Malfoy. But most of all, she wanted someone's hand to hold, and Malfoy had already done that for her on more then one occasion.

* * *

><p>By the time Hermione opened the door to Malfoy's room again, Blaise was gone and he was sitting by the large window in a chair, gazing out. She could see his profile, and from the look on his face he was quite stressed.<p>

"I wondered if you ran upstairs again," he drawled, not turning to look at her. "Usually you stomp around that room like a horse, but today you have been rather silent."

She could tell that was his attempt to insult her, but any snide undertones were absent. He had not insulted her fully in a long time. "How was your talk with Blaise," she asked, stepping into the room, completely ignoring his comment. She took a seat on the floor beside him, relaxing back against the bed. It wasn't until she was comfortable that she realized he was giving her an odd look.

"There are chairs you know," he said, indicating with his head towards the other few chairs in his room, promptly ignoring the fact that she could sit on his bed. "And it went fine."

She nodded, but didn't move to grab a chair as he had offered. It wasn't the gentlemanly thing to do, to make her retrieve her own, but she was still stunned on the fact that he offered. He offered her to sit on a chair, to sit on level ground with him, and that in itself could be considered amazing. His racism towards her had been rapidly dwindling down recently, but this was very different. Offering her to sit on his bed the previous night- which had later turned into sleeping there- could be considered cheap in some instances, but this was completely different. She didn't even see the racism anymore.

"Good," she said, turning to look out the window once more.

There was a silence between them, and it was a comfortable silence, despite everything that had happened the last few days that should've made it awkward, but it just wasn't. Draco however, eventually broke that calm piece.

"Was there something you wanted?"

She pursed her lips, having forgotten the reason why she came in there in the first place. There went the tranquil moment. "I received a letter from Ginny."

"Another howler?"

"Not exactly," she said, shifting a bit. "She wants me to floo her."

He cocked an eyebrow and shifted his gaze down to her, "And do you really think that's a good idea."

She shrugged. "They need to know."

He rolled his eyes. "Then good luck Granger, because your friends maybe the soft-hearted Gryffindor type, but I doubt they will take too kindly to this."

"I know," she said, standing again. Any ideas of using Malfoy to help her was obviously not going to work. He hardly wanted to discuss the topic. She may be strong enough to do it on her own, but that didn't mean she wouldn't mind the help. "Guess I better start then."

He didn't respond, so she headed away and went back towards her room. The shifting of a chair and the sound of footsteps caused her to look back. Malfoy had gotten up and followed, and was now just behind her. She narrowed her eyes.

"What are you doing?"

He smirked, but it wasn't the malicious smile it had once been; there was tenderness beneath the surface. "You think I'm going to miss this? Don't even think about going through the fire Granger; I want to listen."

Hermione rolled her eyes, suppressing a small smile. "Just don't say anything," she remarked, turning to continue on her way. Malfoy may be following her, which was what she had wanted, but she wanted to ease all of her friends into the conversation, not have the git mutter some snarky comment and alert the others of his presence before she even got to that part.

This could prove to still be a very difficult conversation after all.

* * *

><p>After connecting to the Weasley Floo channel, talking with Mrs. Weasley for twenty minutes, and Fred and George for six, Hermione had finally gotten through to the three people she had been attempting to contact in the first place. Seeing their faces in the fire though really didn't feel personal enough though, and the notion to come through to the Burrow and rejoin Malfoy in this cold place later was getting bigger and bigger; Merlin, she wanted to be there, she wanted to see them. And above all else, she wanted to return to a place where she felt like she belonged, with a family that loved her.<p>

_Family. _They were not her blood, and Harry and the Weasley's could never replace her mother and father, but knowing they were there in a home where everyone loved one another hurt her. They had the luxury of warmth and caring people while she had Malfoy in a cold, bitter place.

Then again, Malfoy hadn't been so bad lately.

"Hermione," Ginny said brightly, although the emotion behind her voice seemed a bit forced. "We were hoping you would Floo!"

"I could tell you wanted to talk," she replied, smiling back. It was forced as well, but more from nerves than anything.

"How are you," Harry asked, and she ignored the fact that Ginny had mentioned that he had tried to track her without her consent.

"I'm doing alright," she said, glancing back for half a moment at the blond who had reclined on her bed, his shoulders resting against her pillows. He looked far too comfortable and it was unsettling to think that he could be comfortable lying on her bed when not so long ago she had been overly comfortable in his.

"Can we come through," Ron inquired, seemingly the least happy of the three. "We need to talk, all of us."

"No," Draco muttered, and she shot him a sharp look. It had obviously not gone unnoticed by her friends, however.

"Is someone there," Harry inquired. "Hermione, where are you?"

"I'm dealing with some… business matters," she replied, knowing that if they found out she was at Malfoy's and she had said she was 'with a friend' that it would only cause more issues. There were enough issues to deal with at the prior.

"Are you at home," Ginny asked, sounding suspicious. "This Floo connection seems differnent. Are you at a friend's?"

"I told you I'm taking care of some business," she replied, eyes dancing over the three faces in front of her. Yes, this was going to go very bad indeed.

"Can we come visit you at home later? We really should talk in person," Ron continued, narrowing his eyes.

"I actually won't be returning home for the holidays," she muttered, looking down at her feet. "This task will take up until the start of school again."

"Just what kind of business are you doing Hermione," Ron asked, cocking his head just a bit. "It's the holidays. Nothing should be keeping you away from your family."

She cringed, looking down. This was it, the end of the line, and now faced with that comment she knew she would have to say something now or completely lose her nerve to admit to anything.

"My parents are dead," she muttered quietly, and she heard Malfoy move on the bed.

"What? Speak up Hermione, we can't hear you," Ginny said, puzzled.

"I said my parents are dead."

There was a moment's pause and she could feel the intense stares of her three closest friends, even with the distance separating them. She shuffled her feet, and a moment later she felt Malfoy's presence behind her. He didn't touch her, but the fact that someone was there who was done judging her was comforting.

Harry spoke first. "We're coming through. Open the Floo up and allow us in."

_Oh good, another complication. _"Actually, Harry about that-"

"Potter if you think you are getting into my home you are quite mistaken," Draco snapped, entering the conversation. He stepped into their lines of vision and the conversation, scowling once more.

The looks on their faces were ones of pure and utter horror. "You're at Malfoy's house," Ginny said at length, looking somewhere between mystified and horrified. "Why exactly?"

"Business," she said, shrugging sheepishly.

"You have business with Malfoy," Ron repeated, alarmed. "When did this happen?!"

"Well Weasley," Draco drawled, making the brunette severely regret her choice to want support, "when your friends are to blind to notice things, the enemy always ends up taking your place."

"That's a lie!"

"Yes well, you can debate that at school because it is out of the question for you to think I would ever open my Floo network to the three of you."

"Open the Network right now Malfoy," Ginny seethed, looking rather angry. "She's our friend and now we have multiple things to discuss."

He waved his hand. "Forget it."

Hermione turned to him and grabbed his arm. "Let them through."

"You said I couldn't go through," she said, eyes large. If he was going to be a bother, lounge on her bed, stand behind her like an eternal shadow, and then he could do this for her. As her friends had been pointing out, her holiday was going to be spent here and not with her parents- even though that was impossible, but her friends didn't know that. "Let me talk to them. I'm here helping you. Let me talk to them; I need to fix this."

For a moment, she thought that he was going to shoot her down, tell her he would never allow her friends here, but he simply sighed. "Don't start screaming at each other, and don't leave the room. The last thing I need is to have my mother- or my _father_- to see one of them. And don't make them think this is an offer to come here; my Floo network is not open to them outside today." He turned on his heel and left.

Hermione smiled after his retreating form. He was stubborn, but he was the only one who could permit access to the Manor. He didn't have to, and any other time he wouldn't have but this time he has, and she felt good about that.

"I thought you wanted to listen."

He glanced over his shoulder at the door, pulling out his wand to change the wards for a moment. "Yes, well that was before I had to stay in the same _room _as them. I think I can handle not being here for that."

She smiled again. "Thank you Malfoy."

In return, he simply scoffed. "Don't thank me; I just wish you luck. I don't know how you plan to go about this, but good luck to you."

Hermione nodded, and then he walked through the door and left, left her to deal with her friends and whatever they had to say to her. Taking a breath, she turned back to the three faces in the fireplace, all of whom looked exceptionally irritated.

"You can come through," she said, nodding to them. Now she had to tell them, and hopefully no one would end up screaming loudly and causing an uproar in the house.

* * *

><p>It had taken over an hour alone to explain why Hermione was staying at Malfoy Manor before she could even begin to tell the rest of her story; what had happened with Rodolphus, her parents, and everything else. She told them what she knew, but excluded Blaise, Pansy and Theo if only because she didn't fully understand their involvement. For the most part they didn't speak, didn't ask her questions, and this time she didn't break down and cry. She looked around the room, but not at their faces. She couldn't. Explaining it to Malfoy as one thing, where her emotional connections to him in the past had been brutal and uncaring. Her friends, the people she had carried and who had carried her over the years, were far harder to face. They knew too many things about her and the emotional ties ran deep. It was harder to tell them.<p>

When she finished her story, it was silent. She didn't look up, and instead looked out the window. The silence was suffocating, and she was waiting for the moment when her friends would get up and leave her in the dark.

It wasn't until she felt a hand grasping her own that she looked up and met Ginny's eyes. She wore a soft smile, and an expression that could only be read as sad. Sitting beside Hermione on the bed, instead of the chair she had been occupying, she wrapped her arms around the brunette and rested her head on her shoulder.

The two boys joined in hugging their friend, never saying a word. And for a long time there was silence, and she couldn't completely read what they were thinking. But it didn't matter. She would take the silence; take the support, so long as they didn't have to shun her for her secrets again.

She felt connected to her friends again.

* * *

><p>Hermione was staring at a blank piece of paper later that night when her door opened. Peering over her shoulder, she spotted Malfoy, wearing his pajama bottoms and a ruffled shirt. It took her a moment to realize that it was the shirt he had been wearing last night before she had fallen asleep and ended up waking to his naked chest.<p>

"There was no screaming," he commented, not leaving the doorway.

She nodded. "They didn't speak a lot. I told them everything, they asked a few questions, and then they left together, saying they would owl. I don't think they know how to respond."

"I don't think anyone would know how to respond," he replied, running his fingers through his hair.

The brunette nodded, pulling her knees up to rest her chin upon. "Was there something you wanted?"

He glanced around. "I was wondering if the Gryffindor party was still overtaking my home."

She shook her head. "They left a while ago."

"Alright," he said, glancing around once more. "Get some sleep Granger; we will go and see my father tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," she asked, raising an eyebrow. "The day before your mother's Ball?"

"Don't get the wrong idea Granger, my mother is probably gone to drag me away to do meaningless tasks for something I'm not attending, but we will go see him. We need to get this over with."

The girl nodded. "So tomorrow when?"

He shrugged, "We'll see. Blaise and Pansy will be arriving tomorrow as well; they are staying over until the twenty-seventh."

Hermione nodded. "Okay."

"Goodnight Granger," he said, inclining his head towards her as he grabbed the door handle again.

"Night Malfoy," she said smiling softly. It wasn't until the door was shut that she pulled the letter out from beneath the blank piece of paper.

_Tick tock, you're time is nearly up._

_I'm watching you Mudblood; count down your days. _

She took a shaky breath. The letter had arrived during the talk with her friends, and she had only read it minutes before Malfoy opened the door. He was counting the days; this would happen soon, her confrontation with Rodolphus, and her examination of Lucius. Life was going to be complicated, more than it had been before.

Shoving the letter back beneath the blank paper, she turned towards her bed. A good night's sleep was what she really needed.

But that night, both teens found it exceptionally hard to sleep. Rolling around on mattresses that had too much space, they both unconsciously noted that there was a side of the bed that was uncomfortably cold.


	27. You're Voice

**A/n**: Here's another chapter! We touch on a lot of things here, so I hope you like it. This one is kind of fractured, but we are so close to the big events I'm brimming with anticipation! Oh, and if you are curious, since this story is nearly complete I've decided to try and finish it first, so faster updates then any of the other stories. Yay!

The facebook link is at the top of my profile! Thanks to my beta, **JDeppIsMyLovely**, and enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>You're Voice<strong>

December 23 found Nymphadora awake early, rereading over the reports of Theodore Nott's arrest once again. Her husband, Remus, was still upstairs fast asleep.

The reports were quite strange. When the boy had been given Veritaserum he had not been questioned about anything pertaining specifically to Rodolphus Lestrange. However, one report stuck out to her. When trying to figure out what may have brought a school-boy to these levels of violence he had not exhibited even during a war, the Auror questioning him at the time had asked him about his summer. He had openly admitted to speaking to the man, but the Auror- a new trainee- had not thought this tidbit of information important and did not push for more; he wasn't dealing with the case on Rodolphus of course. Looking over the report now, she pursed her lips.

Why would Nott have been speaking to the escaped prisoner without worry? Had the conversation been near the time he had first escaped? And if they had talked, had the Dark Wizard's words perhaps had an influence on the young boy, drawing him further into the Dark Arts than he had already been at one point in time? Was Lestrange the reason Theo had picked up such violent tendencies to begin with?

Sighing, she rubbed her head. She just couldn't wrap her head around it. She planned to question the boy later today, and see just what he knew. But she wasn't as concerned with what had drawn Nott onto a darker path so much as what he knew about Rodolphus. She had been working on his case since his escape, and although he seemingly left behind a large amount of bloodshed each place he visited, they had yet to catch him. The only reason they could ever even figure out what he had been responsible for and what he had not been was because of people who sometimes saw him leaving the scene of the crime or witnesses who could describe him to them. On more than one occasion, those witnesses had been muggles. But why target the muggle population? As far as she had known, his sole victim had been Hermione Granger from the start, right?

The woman stood, walking to a shelf where she kept pieces of Rodolphus's file to work with at home. His case had been strange, from the moment he escaped prison to now. Originally, when he escaped, it had been considered for simple reasons, like the need to get out of Azkaban. But after Auror's were alerted of a beaten Hermione Granger down in muggle London, she had quickly been picked up and brought to St. Mungo's, where she was put in the emergency ward. About that time, the Headmistress of her school had appeared wanting to know what had happened to her supposed Head Girl for the New Year. Tonks had spoken with Minerva specifically, explaining how they found her quite a distance from her home, beaten and bloody. When the Auror's went to her home to find her parents, they had found the lifeless, drained bodies strewn about the downstairs. From there, the questions had begun.

She was thankful for the girl's sake that things pertaining to this case were kept under wraps. Considering that the case involved a major breakout from a highly secure prison, journalists and reporters were not allowed to hear anything about it. And that in itself had probably saved the girls reputation and her sanity. She thought it was bad to have her parents die, but to have the news splattered across the front page of a paper for all to see would've been far worse.

But that hadn't been the worst of it. She was stubborn. She had that pain in her shoulder once the doctors healed everything, and although they wanted to look back and look and see what was wrong, she had completely declined. Since Tonks herself had been the one to fetch Draco the ingredients for the cancer potion, she knew that had to be what the pain had become. Oh Hermione, if she had only listened and taken the help.

Nymphadora ran her fingers over the folder. This was where everything involving the case of Rodolphus had gone, including Hermione's story about her parent's death, and all the things she had simply not understood. After telling the Auror's what she knew, the girl had folded in on herself. The woman had expected to see Harry Potter and the Weasley Clan storming through the Ministry as soon as she was permitted to leave, but it never happened. She had never flooed her friends while there and told them what had happened. Thinking back, that was probably why McGonagall had taken the girl with her when she left, back to Hogwarts, to live an additional three weeks before the year began. She knew not what lie the girl had spun to her friends to cover over her absence on the train, just that she had not been at Platform 9 ¾ the day it was set to leave for school.

And Tonks only knew that, because she had been there, watching a relative of hers board the Train. Draco may have ignored her the entire time while at the train station, but she had eyes only for him. She had wanted to see him, see how well he could cope with things, and how he had grown. For it had not gone unnoticed by anyone dealing with this case that although Rodolphus was out of jail, and the only family he had yet to contact that still tolerated him was the Malfoy's, yet he had not once gone to the Manor. The Ministry could only believe that though off of the lack of reports they had gotten from the three Malfoy's since Lestrange's escape; with the Manor's tight wards, it had to be impossible for him to get in without someone being alerted, right? That was what the Ministry was hoping for anyways.

It appeared he had been avoiding them, which seemed odd indeed. Malfoy Senior had lost his mind and his skill recently after a stint in Azkaban, so what did he have to worry about? Lucius had always been the strongest wizard of the three, with Draco and Narcissa just behind him. So had he been ignoring the Malfoy's or hiding from them? With Lucius out of service and Narcissa being a bit… torn since her husband's sentence, that left only one member whom he may fear; Draco.

So had the wizard really avoided a place that nearly promised help because of the young man, or was he simply not welcomed there? Standing on Platform 9 ¾ that day, Tonks hoped it wasn't the latter. She knew very well that Draco would be made Head Boy, and so long as Rodolphus had a fear of the boy's skill, that might deter him from trying to find a way into the castle, or attacking her on the school grounds outside the boarder. Tonks had often wondered if that arrangement of Head's had been made before or after Hermione was found. And yet, through all the notes she sent to Minerva, she had never asked. The two women had been corresponding for some time, with Tonks being the Headmistress's eyes inside the Ministry, ready to alert her if it seemed something wicked was coming her way, and vise-versa. She had been telling the older woman about happenings in the Ministry and suspicions of Rodolphus since the beginning.

Flipping through the pages of Lestrange's file, she reflected on the current situation. Minerva had spoken to Hermione in private when she had said she was leaving school for the holidays, and had cautioned her it may not be a good idea so long as she wasn't going with her friends. Tonks was under the impression they still didn't know what had happened. But after pressuring the teen to tell her where she was going for safety reasons, she had been surprised to learn Granger was going to Draco's family Manor.

And although Minerva thought that was a dangerous idea, Tonks thought it was brilliant. She wasn't sure she wanted to know why Hermione had decided to go there for her holidays, but it did let her breathe a bit. The Manor had to be safe, and at the very least if Rodolphus was being cautious of his nephew's skill, then he would be less likely to try and attack her there. Or at least, Nymphadora hoped so.

"You're up early," a voice said, catching her off-guard, and she turned to meet the sleep eyes of her husband. He was smiling softly at her. "Come back to bed."

Rolling her eyes, Tonks suppressed a yawn. She had not realized how long she had been standing there, pondering over things from the past instead of figuring things out about Rodolphus. It had nearly been forty minutes. Nodding her head, she set down the file and took her husband's hand, their son still upstairs asleep. The file could wait a few more hours. She was certain Hermione was safe enough for the time being.

* * *

><p>Hermione awoke the next morning to bickering in the room beside hers. Stretching, she noted for a second time that the bed still seemed empty, and the fact that she even noticed that scared her. For Merlin's sake, sleeping beside Malfoy hadn't been anything spectacular!<p>

Rolling off her bed to stand, she contemplated going to see what all the fuss in Draco's room was about, but thought better of it. Instead, she found herself some cozy clothes to wear for the day, and had just finished dressing herself when the door adjoining their rooms was flung open and an irritated blond stepped through, grumbling about something. But whatever it was really didn't seem that important to her.

"Do you ever consider knocking," she hissed, crossing her arms in a pout as the git completely ignored her and walked to her desk, ruffling the papers before turning to storm the other way and through all the pillows off of her bed. Her heart nearly stopped when the letter from Rodolphus became visible, but the blond was on a kick and didn't seem to be paying any attention. She quickly hid it again before pulling out her wand and putting all the pillows back onto her bed. At this, he finally seemed to take note of her.

"My mother's insane," he huffed, sitting promptly down on the bed she had just straightened. "She is _still _trying to convince me to go to her bloody fucking Ball!"

She winced, wondering if Narcissa was indeed in the next room, but when no reply came she figured the woman had left. "Perhaps it's important to her that at least one of the 'Malfoy Men' in this house goes. Since your father tries to kill everything he sees you are a far better option."

"Lucky me," he muttered. "Speaking of my dear father, we are going to see him today. Would you say just before lunch?"

Hermione shrugged. "Whenever; it's not like I have a lot of plans to make."

"I only assumed that you might be talking to your friends more now that they know what happened." Again, he was met with a shrug, and she glanced away. "What?"

"They didn't really talk," she said, turning her back on him to walk to her vanity and pick up the single item she had put there; a comb. "I talked, and we hugged, then they left. I'm not exactly sure where we stand, but they no longer hate me."

"You could still talk to them however."

"Maybe," she replied, brushing her hair, "So around noon?"

The blond suppressed a sigh. She was avoiding topics again. "Yes, around noon. Blaise and Pansy are arriving around three, so I need to be available to greet them." He met her eyes in the mirror, and the force behind that look startled her. "Be nice to her."

She frowned, glancing back over her shoulder now. "What do you mean, 'be nice to her'?"

"It's not like I think you would be cruel; our situation is just hard on her."

"And why is it hard on _her_?" She crossed her arms, waiting for an answer.

In return, he only raised an eyebrow. "Why don't you ask her yourself?"

Well, that could be a good thing or a bad. Good, because it would be a direct answer, but bad, because she would have to pry at Pansy's mind when she really didn't even know the girl.

_Oh I can't wait to see how this goes… _She flipped her head around, ignoring him again. If he didn't want to answer her question then she didn't have anything else to talk to him about. A moment later, she heard the shuffling of feet, and the door opened and closed, and she realized he had left.

* * *

><p>Hermione was tapping her foot impatiently at the bottom of the third floor staircase when Malfoy rounded the corner. He was nearly ten minutes late, which was ridiculous if you asked her since he was the one who decided this just needed to happen today.<p>

"You're late," she sighed, looking up at him. It appeared the blond had been having some sort of war, either with himself or another person. Either way, someone had been pulling at his hair and it now stuck out in unusual directions like Harry's.

"Yes well, I had to deal with my mother," he grumbled, pushing lightly past her. She followed, put off by his attitude, but that feeling was immediately silenced as she watched the usually impeccable blond attempt to straighten his hair; despite his efforts, it remained puffy. And to that, she had to smile, if only a moment.

They climbed the stairs, and it was on the platform between floors that the blond glanced down, making sure her wand was actually drawn before continuing. Despite his mood, he was at least being cautious; his father was not someone to underestimate, a fact he had witnessed himself on more than one occasion. Lucius was someone to be wary around.

He remained in front of her as they started down the hallway- though through his own decision more than worry for her- and he cautiously glanced around, conscious of the fact that his father rarely ever resided in the front rooms, but it was still a possibility and yet again something he wouldn't overlook. Although they were walking without making contact, he was constantly checking that she was fairly close. He didn't trust the man. Glancing behind him for a moment, he made sure he could grab her if necessary.

Her eyes widened. "Draco," she said in alarm, seconds before shoving him against the wall with all the force she could muster. Something glass-like whizzed past them- just past her head and where he had been standing- crashing into the wall.

Two heads snapped around in the other direction, staring at the thrower. Lucius stood not ten feet from them, a second glass object in his hand. Draco had his wand trained on the man; Hermione's sitting slack in her grip as she studied Lucius yet again.

"Father," Draco growled, in a low, dark voice. He made to say something else, when Hermione cut him off.

"Why did you throw that," she asked, raising an eyebrow. Draco turned to her with a surprised look. He was certain she was going to get something stuck in her if she went around standing like that; pretty, with her wand by her side in a slack grip and her head cocked just so. Shouldn't they tie him to a chair or something where he could do no harm before they went around asking questions?

Lucius, it seemed, was also surprised by her bluntness. "You dare talk to me," he asked, and she noted the slur in his voice. Did they have alcohol up here, or was this some sort of strange way of talking? He took a step forwards, and Draco decided it was time to get off the wall at that action. He pushed her off, standing straight again, waiting to see if his dear family member would try something else ridiculous.

"You dare talk to me," he said again, gripping the piece of glass tighter in his hand. "How dare you talk to me Mudblood? Bad, Mudblood bitch!" He chucked the glass, and if Hermione had been a lesser witch it would've probably smashed into her face. A quick wave of her wand and the glass broke in midair, now turned into small shards that fell down onto the creaky floor.

Malfoy attempted to move in front of her again but she gave him a soft shove back. Curious, he allowed her to stand without his protection, no matter how wary it made him; she did seem to be the initial target after all. "Throwing things at your enemies is childish Lucius, especially when they have a wand." She twiddled her wand in her fingers, unsure where her confidence came from. He had tried to kill her twice since walking up there, but something about the mess of a man didn't send her running. No, in fact, it almost made her sorry for the bastard. "If you are insistent on playing with glass Lucius, you will get cut."

The elder Malfoy's eyes flashed to his offspring, his hands coming to play with each other in front of his body. "You let her talk to me like that," he said, sounding a bit hysterical. "You let her, the… the Mudblood, talk so badly to father? No Draco, no! We don't like her kind! No! You should be on my side boy, not hers, not hers. You should be on my side but no, you are taking a different side, just like he did. Why do none of you see?"

Hermione took half a step back only so she could be Malfoy out of the corner of her eye. "What is he talking about?"

The blond gave her a lazy shrug, not taking his eyes off of his father. "I have no bloody idea, but don't interrupt," he hissed, "he may actually tell us something of use if we let him go on long enough."

"Sounds like a waste of time," she muttered under her breath.

They proceeded to stand there for another twenty minutes as Lucius muttered on about nothing, occasionally moving closer then back again when he looked between the pair. He kept mentioning a 'him' and 'them', but neither teen had the faintest idea what he was going on about. Hermione- who had far less experience with the elder blond- had decided some time ago that he wasn't a threat, and was letting herself hold her wand slack a bit. Malfoy still remained rigid, waiting for something. She wondered if she should be terribly still as well, but didn't see the point. She had very little experience with people who were mentally gone, and she was simply assuming that he had lost himself in his own little world.

Glancing around, she wondered if there was anything in the space that could tell her about what had made the man so angry and dangerous and mental, when she felt something sharp pierce her skin. She stumbled, surprised by the contact to the side of her head, and hit the ground. That explained why Malfoy was so cautious then; the man only appeared to have forgotten they were there. _Why did you get so sidetracked Hermione?_

She hit the floor on the opposite side of her head, her wand falling out of her hands and rolling someplace; the pain in the side of her head was quickly becoming a heated fire and she bit her lip, resisting the urge to whimper. That wouldn't help anyone. Feebly, she reached her hand out searching for her wand, not feeling a thing.

The brunette kept her eyes open, listening to what was going on around her. Draco had apparently decided to spell his father a few times, although she couldn't be sure if the elder man was doing the same or not. He was talking, but it was in too low of a voice of her to hear. Moving her eyes around, she attempted to stay conscious when something caught her eye from beneath a shelf. The furniture up here was sorted in no specific pattern and placed in irregular places. This shelf was bulky, and had cut the hallway in half when they originally walked down it. On the ground now she noted something lying on the floor.

Deciding this hidden slip- or slips- of paper maybe more important than her wand she wasn't finding, she reached forwards to grab the objects, and had her fingers touching it when someone roughly touched her shoulders, brushing her hair to the side.

"Damnit Granger," Malfoy hissed above her, shoving more of her hair to the side. "Granger," he said again, leaning over her to see if she even knew he was there, "Granger blink if you hear me."

She wanted to say that she could talk, but opening her mouth and trying to form a sentence nearly made her dizzy. Blinking once, she heard his contented sigh, even if it seemed an alarming distance away.

"Dinky," the blond said, watching his elf pop into existence next to them. The girl just had to get lost in her own damn mind didn't she? "Fix this," he hissed, holding back her hair so the elf could see where the object had hit. Lucius had thrown two things at once- something Granger probably didn't even know- and because of that he didn't know quite what had hit her, but he presumed it wasn't glass- or hadn't slit much of her head open if it was- because the girl was still alive. "Now!"

The elf set to work, and in less than three minutes had the wound healed.

"Do _not _let her stand up until you are done."

"Yes Master," the elf said, looking down at Hermione who was still staring at the paper, waiting until they were done with her to grab it. Draco however, had already turned back to his father, who was bound to the chair like he had originally wanted.

"Are you absolutely mad," he growled, stepping closer, wand out. Malfoy Senior's wand was now sitting in his back pocket. "You could've killed her! And that would've put you back in Azkaban where you belong! If you are insistent on killing people father, kill people that need to die!"

"She should die," he said, his head lolling back and fortieth. "She should die like them."

"And stop with the insistent talking like you are delirious. You maybe mental- and a complete bastard- but I am certain you can form a proper sentence; you are a _Malfoy _after all. Wouldn't it be _below _you to not be able to hold proper conversation?"

He expected the man to rebuke, say he was a proper Malfoy, but all he did was laugh. "I have been a proper Malfoy my son," he cried, laughing hysterically, "I have been!"

"Maybe you don't have a sane part of you anymore," Draco muttered, turning away again. It was useless to have ever brought her here. He hadn't seen his father in months before this week, and obviously it had taken it's toll on the man. If Lucius was a lost cause then he was gone now. Bringing Granger here had only ruined her holiday and put her in danger. He sighed, extending a hand to help her up when he reached her. Dinky stood to the side looking at her curiously, and it was then that Draco noted that she had some sort of paper in her hands. "Where did you get that," he asked, helping her to her feet, but she wasn't even looking at him. Once standing, she clutched the paper with both hands and stared at it with wide, horrified eyes.

"Granger," he asked again, keeping his hold on her wrist. He was half afraid she was going to fall back over. When she didn't respond, he gently pushed the apparently terrible paper down to see it too. "Granger, stop with the scared act, it's not funny," he continued, before glancing down to read the paper.

_Burry your sins in the blood of others; don't wallow in the fact that your family cannot keep away from those who are less than worthy_

He tore the paper away from her, ripping the corners. He had no idea who was in the picture below the writing; all he knew was that it had been written in what appeared to be human blood. Turning quickly, he stormed back to his father, Granger half a step behind.

"What is this," he asked, shoving it into his father's face. "What is it!?"

"You already know what it is," Hermione said in a small voice behind him, and he didn't turn to look at her. Instead he lowered the paper to meet his father's grey, crazy eyes.

"That's Martha and Andrew," she said, voice choking. Falling forwards on her knees, she stared at the muggle photograph of the murdered family, alive and happy in this instance in time; Malfoy had dropped the photo on the floor, and now all three occupants could clearly see it. The photo wasn't recent, depicting Andrew a bit younger then he had been when he was killed, and Martha still had long waves, for she hadn't chopped them off until just weeks before her death. Staring at the photograph was eerie. Not only was it in the upstairs of a home of prejudice Malfoy's, but it was a muggle photograph that wizards did not usually get their hands on. The simple fact that she recognized the people in the photo- and that there were prejudice words littering the space above their heads- sent Hermione's mind into overdrive; here was something that just didn't belong.

Her eyes snapped up to meet Lucius's. The crazy laughter was gone, and in it's place was a vicious sneer. She suddenly found herself glad that he was bound, unable to move. Standing, she walked forward and stood beside Malfoy, leaning to grab the photo; Lucius's eyes following all the way. She didn't like that he watched her. From the corner of her eye, she could tell there was something on the tip of Malfoy's tongue that he was dying to say, but she had no idea what it might be. Grabbing Malfoy's hand- an action that alarmed _only _the elder man- she pulled him away.

"Unbind him," she said placing the hand holding the photograph behind her back.

Draco looked over at her, surprised. He knew he needed to get her downstairs, get her a blood potion, and have her lie down so nothing further went wrong from his father's foolishness, but he never had the intention to remove the binds until after she was seen to. "Excuse me?"

Hermione looked at him. "Remove the binds. Put up a barrier, and keep his wand. Put it up just here, so he cannot pass further down the hallway in this place. The next time we come up-"

"There is no next time-"

"-then we will know that he cannot touch us," she continued, talking over him. The blond rolled his eyes, pushing her back a bit, before he wandlessly undid the binds. She had a feeling he did it without his want to simply prove the point that he could handle his father without the barrier, but put one of those up as well before looking at her again. "Happy?"

"No," she said, looking at him. "I'm not happy at all." He watched her arm flex, the one holding the photo, and he had a pretty good idea why she was so upset. They went up there to prove a point, yet they ended up with more questions on Andrew and Martha then before. Was there no break to the questions?

* * *

><p>It was later when Hermione ran into Narcissa. She had been wandering around looking for Malfoy, wondering what to do with the newfound information. Still unsure of the mindset of her friends, she had decided to look for the blond, thinking he may have something worthwhile to say on the whole ordeal.<p>

Also, she had wanted to see if he would say anything on her outburst earlier. It had been an accident that she called him by first name, but in that moment she hadn't even noticed; it had been all about trying to keep the both of them safe. She had been rounding a corner when she practically ran into the woman, who had a stack of parchment and a quill in hand. Hermione expected her to brush by with words such as 'ungrateful, careless Mudblood' but the woman surprised her in an entirely different way.

"There you are dear," she chirped, looking her over once. "I've been searching for you. Come this way." Stunned by the fact that this woman could jump from hating her one day to tolerating her the next, she had followed, mouth closed. Narcissa led them into what she could only assume to be the ballroom. "Now, I've done all the decorating as you can see, and I know who to entertain guests, but I would certainly prefer it if you would come and help me with a choice of food. Draco only tolerated this task for a little while before he sprinted off somewhere, so I thought perhaps you could help me."

She couldn't be serious. This woman had demanded she leave only a few days prior, screaming about 'her kind' being in the house. Now she wanted her to help with hors d'oeuvres? The woman pointed to an elf, who in turn handed the girl a spoon with something delectable looking on it. "I don't mean to be rude N-Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione said, taking a bite as the elder woman tried the same thing, "but why exactly are you having me help with this? Pansy is coming soon and since she is attending the Ball I assumed she would be a far better candidate for this task."

The woman gave Hermione a skeptical look. "Draco lectured me on ignoring you dear. I thought it would be polite to ask the first guest first about this, versus Miss Parkinson, who has been to more then enough balls herself. And you're hair is appalling! Whatever did you get in it on that side," she said, throwing manners to the wind. Hermione suspected it was only because she was considered beneath her that Narcissa bothered to act so informal, and since her son had apparently had to lecture her on etiquette she was feeling the need to make awkward conversation. The moment her fingers touched the still sore spot on her head she jumped out of reach.

The woman frowned. "It's not polite to jump away from people Miss Granger."

_Polite? I would consider you polite if you were not half rude half tolerating me! _Although the potion and a bit of rest had helped her, she was still quite sore from the wound left by Lucius. Biting her tongue to try and make her next sentence seem not quite so rude, she spoke, "That was compliments of your husband." _Okay, there goes polite…_

The woman's face hardened. "Why were you even seeing my husband," she snapped, the nearly civil tone now gone from her voice. The short tolerance cycle was over, and Hermoine sincerely hoped someone came in- anyone- and interrupted them before they ended up in a long argument.

"Your son brought me here to see him," she said, wincing when she noted the semi-surprised look on the womans face. Had Draco not told her, or was she merely surprised that she had journeyed up there at all. "He wanted to make sure you were safe in this house alone while he's away at school, and from what I've noticed it seems you aren't. If there weren't wards keeping him back- which are weakening by the day I might add- then he would be down here, in all his mental glory, possibly hurting you or even killing you. Trust me, I've been up there only a few short times since I came here but it's enough for me." A vision of the newfound photograph flashed through her mind but she discarded it; she could not distract herself at this moment. "Lucius Malfoy is not himself. If the Healer's at St. Mungo's are set on sending him in for life then perhaps you should. Maybe this is why you shut out so many things- like meeting new people like me. You certainly do not want anyone discovering the mess your husband is living up there in that space-"

"Shut your mouth girl," she hissed, eyes livid.

"-but it's doing no good. You are causing more harm then help. I can see it in your eyes- you want him to stay here, but it's not a good idea. I had no intention of ever being the one to talk to you about this, for that was supposed to be Malfoy's job, but now it seems I have anyways. Stop being naïve Narcissa, and take a good look at what he has become. Something is not right with him anymore, be it from Azkaban prison or too much Dark Magic coursing through an old, worn tattoo, I's not healthy. You need to have him seen before he tries to kill you too."

"He would ever try to do that," she spat.

"That's not what your son has told me; that's not what I have seen. Did you know he injured Draco? Did you know he injured me? Do you even care? Or are you simply blinded by the memories of what you used to have with him. Times have unforunatly changed, and with them so has Lucius. He isn't right, and you must remove him from this house before tomorrow night, when something truly awful could happen. Yopu don't want your friends to see him this way."

The resounding slap Narcissa placed on Hermoine's cheek echoed in the large room. The nearly house elves cowered back, unsure what to make of the new scene before them. Hermione herself stood stunned, having not expected that reaction at all.

"Don't lecture me on my husband," she screamed, and the brunette's head turned around at the sound of that odd voice. Yes, it was true; as she spoke, Narcissa was crying. "You know nothing! Don't tell me about my husband, my son! You don't know them!" She raised her wand, but the sudden onslaught of tears seemed to be deterring her determination to hex the Gryffindor. "Get out! Get out of my sight! You have no business here!"

Hermione saw the pain behind the woman's eyes, the pain of having married a maniac. Turning on her heel quickly, she left the room, unsure just what Narcissa may do to her in her hysterics. Rushing down the hallway, she put as much space between them as possible. That woman was bipolar.

In her rush to escape, she missed the softening look in the blond woman's eyes as she lowered her hand, alarmed at her own actions.

Hermione made it back to her room, but passed by it and ran inside Malfoy's instead. Had anyone been around to ask her what she thought she was doing, she wouldn't have known how to answer. The blond himself looked startled, having just walked out a shower, the upper half of his body dripping wet, and the sight of an angry Gryffindor was not what he had expected.

The brunette stopped in front of him, ignoring the fact that he was attempting to towel his hair dry as she began to talk. "You're mother is an absolute beast!"

He raised an eyebrow. "If we were talking about my father, I would have to agree, but not my mother. She's delusional at best, now sit down before you hurt yourself," he snapped, grabbing a chair and placed them sitting opposite one another, Hermione mumbling all the way.

"So what did my mother do?"

She glared. "That woman slapped me! I have half a mind to turn her orange or something before her precious ball."

Draco frowned. "Why would she slap you? I was just talking to her-"

"Oh she mentioned that," the girl huffed, "she mentioned that several times. You mentioned that she should be nicer to me, and oh she tried to be by having me test food for the ball tomorrow since 'Pansy has been to too many' and you ran away. But then she had to go and make a comment about my head and that started a very short argument."

His expression darkened. "You told her we went to see my father, didn't you?"

"It slipped out," she lied, not even trying to make it sound believable, "I thought that maybe it would help if I tried to talk to her too- or least, now I do. At the time I was irritated that I had to spell it out for her."

"So you just screamed," he replied, rubbing his face. "It's charming that you insist to make life harder on me Granger, but really, let me handle my mother and everything regarding that topic. She doesn't like you to begin with; she's not going to _listen _to you."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes well, that's probably true." Standing, she headed to the door for her room. "You should get dressed; Blaise and Pansy will be here-"

She cut herself off as the floo to Malfoy's room roared to life; the smoke disapparated and in its place stood the people in question. Hermione shut her mouth, watching as a seemingly less cheery Pansy stepped out and gave Malfoy a short hug, looking tired. This was certainly not the girl from school. She had just pulled back and spotted the brunette when Blaise- carrying the bags- dropped everything just behind the pair and turned to Draco.

"And you're sure nothing is going on," he said skeptically, looking between the half-clothed, wet Slytherin and the flushed, unsure looking Gryffindor. He never found them in an innocent setting anymore, did he?

Draco rolled his eyes. "How many times have I told you to shut up Zabini," he asked, watching as Pansy stepped away from him , back into Blaise's grip; he noted that the usually stunning girl looked pale and haunted. "Hello Pansy."

"Draco," she acknowledged, nodding to him. Her eyes shifted then, searching out the slightly awkward looking girl on the other side of the room. "Hello Hermione."

The girl blinked, having not expected Pansy to stop talking to the blond so quickly. Nonetheless, she nodded in return. "Hello Pansy."

"So where are we staying mate," Blaise asked, ignoring the strange exchange between the girls. He knew Pansy had an urge to talk to the Gryffindor, and had since back in October, since she found out about Malfoy's deal. He had a bad feeling that she would be doing so during the duration of their stay, and perhaps sooner than later. Glancing at Granger, he noted that her cheek looked remarkably red. For a moment he questioned whether or not Malfoy would possibly hit her, but discarded the idea. There were two people in that house who were far more likely to do so then his best friend.

The blond nodded his head. "In the room just across the hall; there are two, in case you decide to sleep separately, but the first room is bigger, since I doubt that is an option."

Blaise gave him a sideways smirk. "It's not."

His girlfriend, who at one time may have hit his arm for being so blunt, only nodded. Both men exchanged a look, unsure what to make of the girl's dead behavior. Blaise had his theory of what it was, btu wasn't about to state so with her in the room. If anything, Pansy needed to go take a nap again before she fell over. "We'll go see it then." Draco nodded, casting a charm on their bags so they would follow the pair out of the room. Once they had departed, he knew there would only be a few minutes between now and the time Blaise stormed back through that door again.

He glanced at Granger, who stood in the corner, watching the entire scene. "I'll speak to my mother again."

"No," she said quickly, shaking her head. "No, it's fine. It's not terribly important." _We are not dating Malfoy; hell, we aren't anything. You don't have to defend me from anyone._

He raised a blond eyebrow. "I'm talking to her anyways Granger. Not just for your sake but for my own."

"Of course," she said, nodding her head tightly. "I'm going to go study that photograph from upstairs."

Draco nodded. "I would like to see it when you are done." _I would like to know why it was upstairs to begin with_."This changes things, doesn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged. "You never mentioned who killed the Evans. If that was upstairs, it's possible my father is responsible for it."

Hermione cringed, hoping that was not the case, even though she had thought the same thing at first. "Possibly," she said, before turning back to the door. "I will see you later then."

"Yes. Oh, and Granger?"

She glanced over her shoulder at the blond, eyebrow raised. "Yes?"

"Don't worry about the photo too much; you shouldn't do anything to make your head hurt."

_Funny, the damage was done to the outside of my skull, not my brain itself. _"I won't," she said, smiling at what she believed was a joke, sighing in relief when he returned it with a genuine one. Without waiting for further conversation, she turned and walked out the door.

* * *

><p>It was dark outside when a knock came to the outside of Hermione's door. She knew it wasn't Malfoy- since he always walked in and never came through the door from the hallway- and she got up to answer it. She was rather surprised to find Pansy standing on the other side of it.<p>

"Hi," she said uncertainly, looking around. Did she bring Blaise along, or was this a solo trip?

"Hi," she replied, looking up. "May I come in?"

"Um, sure?" She stepped to the side, allowing the thin girl inside. As she passed Hermione noticed she really did appear thin- like she had not been eating too much lately. Half of her wondered if this was some sort of diet before the ball. "Is there something I can do for you?"

Pansy took a seat on one of the chairs in Hermione's room, looking around until the girl took a seat as well. "Are you still bound to Malfoy's deal," she asked, giving her a pointed look.

"Yes," she said, having nearly forgotten she was here against her will. The thought passed through her mind more than enough on a day-to-day basis, but her time there with Draco had not been horrible, and she sometimes forgot that he was keeping her prisoner. A memory of Draco telling her about Pansy once being a slave flashed through her mind, and she cringed to think that was where the conversation was heading.

The raven-haired girl pursed her lips. "You must get out of that deal."

"It's nearly-"

"No! You have to get out of it." Leaning forwards, she grabbed her wrist. "Trust me."

Hermione looked up, meeting the girls eyes. "Pansy," she asked hesitantly, unsure if this was a good idea or not. "Were you a slave once?" A timid nod gave her an answer, and she decided to press further; Pansy came into her room to discuss this after all. "Who were you enslaved to?"

The girl looked up, opened her mouth, and said a name Hermione had not heard of in a long time, nor ever have paid much attention to.

**A/n: Long chapter. Review?**


	28. It Chased

**A/n**: Here's the next update. I like this chapter, and it touches on something everyone has been bugging me about. But hey, I finally found a way to progress on certain things in here. Don't worry, this stupid author's note will make sense once you have read the chapter! Hope you enjoy and because I am being so nice and giving you all something you have all wanted, leave me a review!

The facebook link is at the top of my profile! Thanks to my beta, **JDeppIsMyLovely**, and enjoy!

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><p><strong>It Chased <strong>

"It's nasty looking," Draco observed, reclining against his bed. Blaise, the ever obsessive bloke that he was, was staring at the mark that overtook his collarbone and shoulder. Really, it was truly an odd placement for the Dark Mark, but considering that this had been done to only leave gaudy scars, he wasn't all that surprised. Had it been the actual tattoo he may have worried a bit about another Dark Lord trying to rise, but this seemed to be done more out of anger then anything. You wouldn't leave a half visible scar on people if you were trying to make a broad statement.

"It really is," he agreed, glaring at the mark. "It was worth it, however."

"Please Blaise," he sighed, rubbing his temples, "don't give me a long story of romance about the two of you; I simply don't need it."

The Italian raised an eyebrow. "Of course you don't; you have your own story forming around Granger."

He scoffed. "Hardly."

"Really now," the Italian pressed, turning to face his friend instead of the mirror. "Then tell me Draco, what do you really think of Granger?"

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><p>Hermione, just one door over, was staring at Pansy with large eyes. She must need to clean her ears out or something; she must not have heard that right. That was a name she had rarely heard about since the war- even during- and hearing it again gave her a small chill down her spine. "Beg pardon?"<p>

Pansy's expression didn't change. "You heard me Granger; you know what I said."

She settled back in her bed a bit, adverting her eyes from the raven-haired girl. Amycus Carrow? She had not had a lot of experience with the Carrow siblings, seeing that they were too busy being professors at Hogwarts while she ran ramrod around England searching for Horcrux's. She knew that McGonagall had disliked the pair quite a bit, and had once suspended both Carrows in midair in the Ravenclaw common room, a sight she had not been around to witness.

But being enslaved to Amycus didn't sound very pleasant at all. In fact, she wasn't entirely sure why she had asked. Of course it was a Death Eater that had kept her as a prisoner! Who else would? But why did he? What did he gain and how had she become stuck with someone like that.

Before she could voice any of her questions, Pansy spoke again. "It was horrible."

She pursed her lips, unsure how to answer anything. "I can't imagine," she replied, keeping her voice quiet. Pansy was certainly on edge, and Hermione really wasn't sure if she was about to scream or cry; time would tell.

"You don't understand Granger," she said, shaking her head, black locks flying this way and that. "You have it easy so far. Draco, he's an arse but he's not unforgiving. He's being quite kind to you actually, considering how things are going. He could command you to do anything, _anything_, and you would have no say. But he's not like that, and you should consider yourself lucky."

Hermione suppressed a frown. Being enslaved to Malfoy had never been something she counted herself _lucky_ for, especially in the beginning. Merlin knew she fought tooth and nail to avoid letting him have something over her, yet she had eventually let him to save her life. And truth be told, it was nothing like she had ever thought it would be. He had been such a prick to her for a long time, but slowly the walls of irritation and attitude had fallen and he had become alright. When his demands were first stated, they had been unexpected, but they had seemed to be so daunting. Now, having dealt with them for so long, she found them easy.

It wasn't until that moment that she realized while speaking with her friends, she had never even considered explaining to them what a hold Malfoy had on her. In fact, the thought hadn't passed her mind. They had not asked how she had gotten well, or if he had something on her. No, she had never thought to even mention it. Apparently, obeying that order from the blond had become second-nature, and she wasn't at all sure she liked that.

"I suppose I do," she breathed, placing Pansy's words in the back of her mind. Malfoy hadn't been difficult for a long time actually, and she intended to ask him just why that was. Since when had things changed so drastically?

_Since you woke up in bed beside him? Or since you came to this place and he hasn't let his mother eat you alive? _She shook the thoughts from her head. Now was not the time to think on that.

Pansy had gotten up during Hermione's inner conflict, and was now wandering aimlessly around the room. She wondered what that was about. "I'm not going to bore you with tales of what happened to me Granger, but be careful. Men can sometimes be power hungry without meaning to be."

That was a strange statement if there ever was one. She could not even begin to connect how that was relevant to anything they had discussed. _Men can sometimes be power hungry? _It sounded like something a lover would almost say, and if Parkinson and… Amycus had been lovers then she had no intention to listen to anything else she had to say. Still, curiosity would be Hermione's death in the end, and she could not stop herself from asking her next question; "Why do you say that?"

The girl looked back at her. "Draco has told you nothing about me then, about my past? Strange, I had assumed he would take full advantage of this opportunity when he gave you your cure; it would have been a nice way to deter your confidence on the entire ordeal." Pansy stopped pacing, and came to sit beside Hermione again on the bed, brushing her hair away from her face. "Would you care to know why I became enslaved?"

She nodded, throwing caution to the wind. So long as it was not too disturbing, she would listen in. Hopefully this story would not keep her up all night.

"My mother had an affair," she said slowly, biting her nail. The brunettes eyebrows shot up, having never expected Parkinson of all people to be a nail biter. "Well, it didn't start out as an affair. My mother met Amycus once, years and years ago, at night and of course was disgusted by him, any decent human being would be. He used one of the Unforgiveables to make her stay with him for a night. After that, she continued to go back to him- don't ask me why Granger, I'm not completely certain. I believe my father became cold towards her, and she simply seeked affection in the most convenient- if not disturbing- places. This was around the time I was seven."

"It went on for years, I'm not sure how often. My father rarely came home you see, he always had something or someone to attend to, and my mother knew that; she just didn't like that he ignored her I guess. Their marriage soon began to fall apart, and he found out that she was having an affair right around the time I started school at Hogwarts. He was mad, and I'm not really sure what went on between them during the fall term, but when I came home for Christmas that year things had changed. My father wasn't there, but Amycus was; he was just as ugly as ever, and I can never tell you what my mother saw in that man. Anyway, he avoided me until Christmas morning."

"I heard them screaming that morning; he was demanding that my mother leave my father and come live with him; I could come if she wanted me to. But she didn't want that; she wanted to continue to live richly without a care, but have him on the side. It didn't sit well with him. That evening he came upstairs and asked if I wanted to play a game; hide and seek. I had never played before, but he said that was okay. He counted, and I hid. Carrow hadn't wanted my mother to see, so we were playing in the guest room he was staying in. At the time I didn't think about it, how odd it was that everywhere seemed to be shut off except a bag, but I assumed he wouldn't hurt me and I hid in there, zipping it up part-way. When he finished counting he said a spell that silenced me and locked me in there. I really don't know what happened for the next several hours after that between him and my mother."

Hermione had a hard time imagining stuck-up Pansy, who had never seemingly been that joyful of a child, running around and hiding in suitcases, but didn't say anything as she continued her take.

"He finally let me out later that night; he took off the spells and let me go, and I saw my mother standing in the room. She had a bunch of welts on her face, and I ran to her; she broke down crying. When I asked what was wrong, she told me to hush and that everything was okay, then gave me a potion bottle. I was told not to take it unless she came up and told me so, then she sent me to my room. They argued that night too."

"I only slept after they had stopped screaming that night, hiding in my room. The following morning she told me to floo to Blaise's, and I spent the day with both boys; Malfoy was there too. That night when I returned my mother told me to drink the potion; she had more welts on her face and on her arms too, but she was still stubborn and wouldn't tell me what had happened. At the time, I let it go and drank the potion." She looked away. "That's how I ended up a slave. Not everyone becomes a slave the way you did Granger; through a cure; sometimes its just potions, just deals. I didn't know anything strange had happened until the following day, because I was foolish enough to trust my mother."

"The following day Amycus woke me up. He demanded I make him breakfast and I found that I had to, despite the fact that we had house elves who could do the same thing; it was then that I knew something was wrong. When I drank the potion, I hadn't really considered what it was because I trusted my mother. It was only then that I began to doubt that it had been anything good. It continued like that throughout the day, and that night he dismissed me so I went to search for her. I didn't find her."

"When the holiday ended he instructed me to not try and run, and to not tell the teachers about what happened. I went back to school and told Blaise and Draco about it, and that I didn't understand. They helped me look up what it might be, and they also sent letters home to see if anyone had seen my mother. As for my father, I had been under the impression that he was simply absent for the holidays, away doing business or something, or maybe just ignoring the offending guest in his home. We spoke, but only through letters and he never asked about my mother, Amycus or the situation. It was all very distant"

"When summer came again and we knew nothing, Malfoy took me to his home to try and avoid seeing Amycus again. I didn't see him until several weeks in, when he sent me an owl demanding I returned to my home. It was a demand, and I couldn't quite ignore it, so I left, without telling anyone where I was going as I was instructed. I never knew until my second year that the Daily Prophet ran two articles on my missing mother and three on me that summer, but really, it was kept on the down low. Anyone with connections to my family had the articles removed from the papers to keep my family's sanity. I didn't know it at the time either, but my father was looking for me. He sent letters during the year and even some here to Malfoy Manor, but our arranged date to meet was canceled when Amycus demanded my attendance, and soon after cut off my owls. I became a slave in my own home."

The Gryffindor nodded, noting that Pansy was pointedly ignoring whatever happened to her mother. As far as she knew, Mrs. Parkinson was alive, but then, Hermione paid little attention to these Pureblood families until recently. This story was beginning to become a mystery in itself.

"I spent my summer doing tasks for Amycus, and whenever I did not meet his requirements he lashed out at me. He's not an exceptionally powerful wizard, but he's terrifying when he is angry. He left some marks." Pulling up the sleeve of her robes, she revealed a long, pale scar. "We only remained in my home for a while, before he moved us elsewhere, probably to avoid searching Auror's. I didn't understand why he wanted me at the time, why he needed me to be a slave, but he kept me by his side that summer. It wasn't until the very beginning of August that someone found me- and it was only because Voldemort had begun to rise. The day the bloke got a message about it, he ripped my shoulder apart and released me from my enslavement, saying I made up plenty for how ungrateful my mother had been. At the time I really didn't understand. Less than a day later I stumbled from the complex he had us staying in and found a wizard that quickly contacted the Ministry for me."

"I went to stay at the Malfoy's the rest of the summer, while the authorities searched for my father. It wasn't hard to locate him, and he came to the Manor barely a day later to retrieve me. Draco's parents demanded to know what had been happening at our house, but he refused to say anything and took me to the loft he had been staying in. This was just a day or so before school for our third year began, and he demanded to know what had happened. When I told him, explaining what I could, he said it would be handled. I didn't understand and tried to demand an answer myself, but he wouldn't give and the following day I had to get on the train to Hogwarts."

"Two weeks into our first term, I got a letter from the Ministry with an attachment from my father, saying Amycus had been apprehended and would no longer be a problem. That's when the Ministry letter came in, explaining what had happened. It was an enslavement potion my mother gave me, and it bound me to the dark wizard. I'm not entirely sure what measures were taken to break that bond, but the Ministry is severely against human enslavement and made sure it was stopped; it's too much like the old days for them I guess. That's how I've always known that you didn't inform anyone of your enslavement; if the Ministry got wind of it Draco would spend at least ten years in Azkaban. You've kept the secret for whatever reason, and so long as they don't find out it shouldn't be a problem; I'm assuming that you no longer wish the worst for him?"

She frowned. "Why do you say that?"

A small smile graced the girls features. "Because you two seem to get along, at least from what Blaise has told me. It's odd that an enslavement had to bring the two of you together."

_It's more than just the slave deal._ "It is," she replied, nodding her head. Was Pansy really planning to stop her tale there? There were multiple thing she left unanswered- some of which Hermoine understood were not in her power to know- but still, there were so many holes. When the Slytherin remained silent she decided to speak up. "Go on then."

Parkinson's eyebrows shot up. "You expected more?"

"It seems there are too many holes for the story to be over," came the reply, followed by a shrug. "I am only curious if you intend to leave it there."

For a second time, Pansy smiled. "I really didn't think you would want to hear anymore Granger, since there isn't a lot more to tell. I'm distanced from my father now, and this last summer after the war I didn't even return home. I spent it rotating between the Manor, Blaise's home and the Greengrass Mansion. I actually have a spare wand in this place actually, something I left behind years ago just before my father came to reclaim me. My original wand is hiding here someplace, although I haven't the slightest idea where. I got a new wand years ago; that on is probably covered in a firm layer of dust."

Hermione nodded, although this was not what she had been searching for; "And your mother?"

The girl's face fell, her eyes looking down at the blanket between them. "My mother's been dead since she gave me the potion. I think she handed me over as a slave in exchange for her life, but I'm not certain. Even if that was the case, it makes no difference now; he killed her years ago. I only wish she had informed me of what had happened, but that would be too much to expect; you can obviously see my parental figures are not the best."

The brunette nodded, noting that this seemed to be an issue among Pureblood families: Malfoy's parents were distant, their marriage practically ruined; Parkinson's family was forever destroyed, and she had heard on more than one occasion that Blaise had a very _interesting _mother with many, may ex-husbands. But she couldn't say too much; both of her parents were gone. "I'm sorry," she said, unsure how to respond.

"Don't be, none of it's your fault." The girl stood, smoothing out her crinkled gown. "Just be careful Granger; like I said, men can be power hungry. You may be on better terms with Malfoy but that doesn't mean his mindset has completely changed; he could retaliate at any moment and take advantage of your deal. Just be careful, these deals can be dangerous." The sleeves of the gown were still pulled up, and she traced the old scar that lingered there. "Don't allow this to change who you are."

With those lingering words, she turned and walked out of Hermione's room, practically running over Blaise who had come to find her. He took a look at her face and frowned. "Is everything alright? Why are you coming out of Granger's room?"

She just shook her head, grasping his hand tightly. "I'll explain later." Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted Granger, who still sat with a confused expression on her bed. "Have a goodnight then; we'll talk later."

"Yes, we will," Hermione breathed in return. She watched Parkinson shut the door, before collapsing back on her bed, memories of everything that had just been told to her swirling in her head.

If Parkinson had been enslaved at some point in her life, did the=at explain why she wasn't acting completely hostile towards her? Had everything that happened really changed who she was going to be? Well, despite the obvious facts of what had changed for her- like having a mother. The girl's explanation of her mother's death had been vague, and Hermione supposed that it made sense; that would be a touchy subject for anyone.

_Don't let this change who you are._

She hadn't changed at all, had she?

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><p>He was watching it again, the Manor. He watched it often these days.<p>

He planned to get in there, oh yes he had it all mapped out, it just wasn't the time yet; he was still waiting on someone. And that someone had already slipped up once. Meeting him had been a coincidence at best, and placing him within Hogwarts was a waste of time. All he had done was ogle a girl he once enslaved.

Rodolphus hoped that he wouldn't mess this up. The idiot was walking on a thin line with him and if he messed up again he had no problem killing him. He just needed him first. As soon as he knew how Hogwarts was, he could stop worrying and focus solely on her. Malfoy would have to deal with his accomplice first before he could help the bitch anyways.

Shuffling bushes behind him alerted the man that someone was coming. Spinning around, wand in hand, he came face to face with his accomplice.

"Minerva still suspects nothing of me. They won't find you like they found Nott; I'll make sure that Malfoy stays out of the way."

"Then your absence will not be noted?"

"No."

Lestrange grinned, an evil, twisted grin. "Good, then everything is going perfectly."

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><p>The following morning Hermione nearly bumped into Draco coming out of her room. He had been apparently heading over to the room Blaise and Pansy had decided to share, and nearly walked over her.<p>

"Sorry Granger," he said, straightening her out as though he really had bumped her. The action was completely unnecessary, and it made her wonder why he even bothered. "Going down to breakfast?"

"The library," she replied, brushing a few hairs behind her ear. They would get nothing done today with holiday guests arriving that night, and she decided to simply ignore Lucius and Narcissa entirely by taking a detour to the Malfoy library for the day. Besides, Draco had Blaise and Pansy around, so would he really miss her?

"That's a dull way to spend your Christmas Eve."

Her eyebrows shot up. "I thought you weren't a fan of the holidays? And it's not Christmas Eve yet; it's the day of Christmas Eve. I am missing nothing." She tried not to flinch at that sentence. Actually, she was missing a great many things from her life, and that understatement was horrible.

If he noticed her reaction after speaking he chose to ignore it. "Just because I don't enjoy the holidays doesn't mean I'm so thick as to think everyone hates them. You Gryffindor's always get very 'jolly' around this time of year."

She suppressed a smile at his word choice. Malfoy could be comical at the strangest times, but since this was edging towards her feelings involving other things she chose to switch topics. "Going to speak with Blaise and Pansy then?"

He glanced at the door, as though he had forgot his reason for traveling the hall. "Oh, yes, I was actually just going to assure they didn't sleep the day away and that Pansy went down to see my mother; she decided she wanted her help yesterday after your…"

"Argument?"

"Yes, argument with her. So I need to make sure she is actually planning to get up." That being said, he turned and wrapped loudly on the door. "Get up you two!"

Hermione stood beside the blond and waited for a response; she was rather curious to find out as well what Pansy had said to her boyfriend after leaving her room last night; it had just seemed a bit odd that Blaise looked so surprised to see her both coming out of her room, and looking haggard. She was nearly about to turn and go when the door opened and a tired looking Italian greeted them.

"What could you possibly want at this hour?"

"It's nearly ten," Draco scolded, and she couldn't quite decide if his tone was friendly or harsh. "And this is my home; I'll bother you when I so please. Where is Pansy? My mother is going to have a fit if that girl does not arrive downstairs soon- and I have already heard enough about this Ball tonight to last a lifetime. She better be up soon Zabini or I'll wake her up myself."

The Italian shook his head. "It's too early in the morning to be bitter Malfoy. I'll wake Pansy and we'll eat something, _before _I send her off to see your mother. Really, she's going to need help too dealing with all of it." His eyes slid over to eye the brunette beside them, raising an eyebrow. "Say, Granger's a girl-"

"Don't even start Blaise," she cut in, raising a hand, "Narcissa tried to use me yesterday before you two arrived, and all that happened was a lot of screaming. I'll be surprised if she utters a word to me at all until I leave."

He smirked. "Sounds like you get a free pass out of the Ball tonight then."

The Gryffindor just rolled her eyes. "It's unlikely that I was ever invited, and anyway, I wouldn't go. Why would I force myself into a situation where I have to spend the entire night around a bunch of Pureblood's who don't like me?"

Blaise chuckled. "I see your point."

She nodded in return. Apparently Pansy was still asleep and the conversation didn't seem like it was going to shift to her topic of interest anytime soon, so she decided to bow out. "Well you three have fun preparing for tonight then," she said, shrugging off her jacket as she spoke. The Manor was chilly, but standing there for too long next to the warm-bodied Slytherin's had done wonders for her body temperature. She was now toasty warm. "I'll be off then to the library like I _originally_ planned." She gave Malfoy a pointed look, indicating that he was of course the cause for her delay. Turning on her heel, she proceeded down the hallway, fighting back memories of giving her parents the same looks just before the holidays.

Approaching footsteps and a rough grip stopped her in her tracks, spinning her around. She came nose to nose with Blaise, who was jerking her arm around roughly in an act to spy something. Malfoy came up just behind him, a frown placed on his face; obviously, what he was looking for was lost completely to the blond.

He flipped her arm around, and the famous scar revealed itself to the audience. Her eyes widened, having forgotten that it would be visible to the Italian when she walked away. Draco shot an eyebrow up but otherwise remained silent.

"What is this," he asked, staring down at the offending word. He traced his fingers over the letters, as though trying to feel for something and the action made her uncomfortable. She attempted to squirm from his grip, but his hand was locked on her arm and didn't seem like it would be going anywhere. "How did you get that? Where-" He cut himself off, dropping her arm quickly and spinning to face his friend. "Did you-"

"Merlin no Zabini," the blond snapped, now cutting his own friend off. "Why would I do that? Besides, can't you feel the magic embedded in there? Look, I tried to heal the wound once, but all that fucking magic won't let me." He was pointing at her by this point, trying to keep his anger in check. Did the git really think he would do something like that? "Just because she is enslaved to me doesn't mean I do shit like that to her."

Hermione flinched at the way he so easily brought up that topic, as though it were not a big deal, but had no time to say anything as Blaise retaliated. "How long as it been there?"

"Oh, I don't know- since this summer? How should I know exactly how long its been there? I didn't leave the fucking scar so I have no bloody-"

Draco grew silent as the ceiling above them creaked; the stairway to Lucius's floor may be a good distance away but he still walked above them. Rarely did he ever make enough noise to draw their attention from lower levels, but the heavy creaking caught everyone's attention.

"Is that your father," Blaise asked, thankfully changing topics. Draco barely spared him a nod, instead watching as Hermione threw back on her jumper. "He's awful noisy, isn't he?"

"Not usually this noisy," Draco replied absentmindedly, watching the brunette still. She looked kind of beaten down suddenly, and he wondered why that was. Guessing that it was possibly because of their current topic, he turned to his mate, hoping to distract him; "I will go and wake Parkinson up myself if you do not go and do so now." He took a couple threatening steps back in the room's direction, but Blaise held up his hand.

"Fine Malfoy, fine, I'll go get her." He glanced back at Granger, who now had her arms crossed protectively across her chest. "I'd like to know more about that mark later if you don't mind Granger," he continued, nodding towards her arms. "It's peculiar, and certainly something you should have fixed. You don't want the dark magic to cause further harm."

"No, I don't," she said tightly. Zabini nodded, before hurrying down the hallway before Draco decided to threaten to wake his girlfriend again; that was a fight he did not want to be responsible for. Once he was down the hall, she turned on her heel and walked off.

"Something bothering you Granger," Malfoy called from behind her, unfortunately drawing her attention. She stopped walking, trying to decide whether or not to respond to him.

"Something is always bothering me Malfoy," she snapped in return, flexing her fingers. She was in no mood to talk to him; if he wanted to talk, he could start by acting less like he completely owned her whenever the slave deal was brought up.

"Anything to do with me then," he challenged, staring at her back. He was going to get to the bottom of her sudden, sour mood swing.

She pursed her lips. "Always."

"Ah, Granger," he chirped, walking up behind her. She made no move to run, and he took that as a sign that she either planned to listen or hit him, depending on what she was thinking. "Stop being so stiff; you may as well be one of the statues here."

"Something else you own," she huffed, talking under her breath.

Immediately, his eyebrows shot up, and he felt a jolt of anger shoot through him. Grasping her shoulder, he spun her around to face him. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," she hissed, looking at his throat instead of his face, "you already own me, may as well leave me somewhere to look at."

"What are you going on about?"

Hermione jerked from his grip, putting a step or two between them. "Didn't you just say that you _owned_ me, but that doesn't mean you have to 'treat me like shit'?"

His eyes darkened. "Granger, I didn't mean anything by it. I was stating a point that I would never do that to someone." Snapping his arm out, he made her stare down at that horrible scar again. "I would never have carved a word into a person; I was defending myself, nothing more nothing less. What's gotten into you? You're so touchy today."

She pulled out of his grip. "I'm touchy because sometimes its nice to believe I am here by choice and not because you force me to be. But every time I get in that mindset to try and think something horrible really isn't happening to me you go and ruin it by forcing me to really remember why I'm here."

Draco's eyebrows drew together. "Has it really been that awful then Granger? I haven't hit you, I haven't even needed to enforce our deal since arriving here, and except when we go and visit my father you can do whatever you bloody please. So please, tell me what I have been doing to make this trip so horrible."

"You forced me to come!"

"Yes, I forced you here, but is it really that terrible?"

The girl pursed her lips. It hadn't been awful, except occasionally dealing with Lucius, and the times when Narcissa freaked out over something. Looking away and tilting her head up, she tried to ignore the fact that she had just made a huge deal out of something she could almost say she had been enjoying; "No, I suppose this trip hasn't been as awful as it could be."

"Exactly," he snapped, rolling his eyes. "And if it makes you feel any bloody better, I don't ever think about the deal. I could release you now if I so pleased but I think you may rush off and do something completely stupid and get yourself killed; then Potter will really want to kill me."

She rolled her eyes in return. "I'm not going to go anywhere. I made this deal- and the terms in which I made this deal under are irrelevant now- but I will stick with it." Boldly, she reached forward and grabbed both his hands, looking up at him again, something she hadn't done since attempting to leave the conversation entirely. "Please release me Malfoy, I hate being enslaved to someone." Pansy's words rang very clearly in her head; _Don't let this change who you are._

He sighed, removing his hands from hers so he could pace. "I just told you I can't Granger; I can't just release you and expect you to not go off and do something rash that-"

"What am I going to do," she asked, throwing her hands up. "What would I possibly do?"

The blond chuckled then, and his sudden attitude change threw her off. "What would you do? I know what you would do Granger," he breathed, getting in her face, "You would go searching for my uncle, because you still have something to settle with him. And what better time to attempt to set something up than during the holidays, when you have nowhere you simply have to be. I am willing to bet you would run off and try to finish that whole ordeal with him, quite possibly losing your life in the process."

She resisted the urge to gulp; she still had that letter from Rodolphus sitting on her desk in her room, buried beneath papers. Malfoy was right, she would go off and try to finish things off with him, but why did he sound like he cared? "So what if I did plan to do that? I would be out from under you, I would no longer be your responsibility; you would have no reason to worry about me."

He pressed his lips together for a moment. "It would be my fault Granger because you would've last been in my care, and I would've let you throw away you're entire life. I'm not saying you're a horrible duelist- don't look at me like that- I'm simply saying my uncle isn't very likely to play fair."

Hermione got the feeling that there was more to this story then he was already saying, but she didn't press it. He was firm; it appeared she would not be getting out of this deal early, which would just make meeting up with this idiot harder. So what if Malfoy could see through her and figure out her plans? They were her plans, not his.

She decided to try and not sigh; there was no way she was letting him know he had won so easily. "Fine Malfoy, if you insist, I guess I'm stuck here until you get over this deal and let me go. But that doesn't change anything, I still have to find you uncle, whether or not you let me go now, or after the holidays. I still have things to finish with him."

Draco reached up, rubbing his temples. "Granger, you can give a man the worst of headaches. Couldn't you just ask Potter and Weasley to help you go on this dangerous quest when we go back instead of trying to be overly heroic and go at it by yourself?"

"I'm not going to hide behind anyone Malfoy; I don't need shields. This is my battle, no one elses."

He groaned, turning to hit the wall; startled, she took a step back. "Damnit Granger, you're too fucking headstrong. When you get killed I won't be coming to you funeral."

"I don't need you to come to it," she hissed in return, placing her delicate hands on her hips; delicate hands that knew how to defend her. "Why are you making such a big deal over the slave deal? Fuck, I'll stay the duration of the holidays if it so pleases you, but why do you have to act like you care about me?"

"I don't."

She pointed her finger. "Yes you do! If you didn't you wouldn't give a damn if I died or not when I go and face your uncle, yet here you are, finding different ways to keep me from my goal. What is with you? I thought you were just tolerating me! Stop acting like you care, it's messing with my head-"

"Granger-"

"-I'm not even sure what to think of you anymore! You're emotions flip around as much as mine, and half the time I can't decide if you are just tolerating me, or considering accepting me as a friend in your precious inner circle, I don't know-"

He silenced her, gently grabbing the back of her head. Before she had time to react, he had her pressed lightly against him, his lips coming to rest against her own. He only remained there a moment- barely long enough for her to react in return- before he pulled back, almost smirking.

"Ponder that all you want Granger." With those words, he turned and swept away, leaving her in the eerie silence of the Manor, completely stunned.

Her eyes were wide as she watched him go. What in Merlin's name had just happened? Was this for real, or was he again trying to mess with her head? Pressing her fingers to her lips, she contemplated that. It would be very Malfoy-like to do this just to spite her, but there was some sort of hidden passion behind the sweet kiss that made her think otherwise.

_Stop thinking so much Hermione. You just got kissed by Malfoy, are you really going to ponder why? Relish in the first real contact you've had intimately with someone in months, and stop over-thinking everything. You can think about it as much as you please later._

Part of her was still very wary about Malfoy's reasoning behind that action, but she chose to listen to the other part of her mind that just wanted to go with it for now. There would be plenty of time to think about this later, right? Maybe she could do so tomorrow, after the Ball. Sighing, she turned on her own heel and trudged on, intent on getting to that library one way or the other. Standing there like a fool for Blaise and Pansy to find later would do her no good, and they would probably ask too many questions. Walking to the library, she couldn't quite push the kiss from her mind.

The simple thought had removed everything else from her focus for the moment, even thoughts of Rodolphus and being a slave.

And that was very, very bad.

* * *

><p>He paced his floor, stopping occasionally to jump hard on the floor, causing old floorboards to groan. How dare they take his wand? The little Mudblood bitch! He could not believe how assertive that girl had been; she should <em>fear <em>him, not make him a prisoner in this place even more then he already was!

Lucius sighed, rubbing his temples as he continued to pace. He would ring her neck when he got the chance, if his bloody son would ever just step out of the way. What was with that boy? Fighting on the side of the likes of that girl instead of his own father! Oh, they would have words when he saw the boy next!

He was rubbing his hands together. He had her there in his own home, which was unsettling. He had never actually meant for her to become involved in everything, it was just a lucky coincidence. He now had someone to take the fall for his actions, which was perfect for him. The last thing he wanted was another trip to Azkaban.

He bent to the floor, searching. He had a favorite picture he kept up here with him, minus the one Granger had taken away with her on their last visit. This one he thought caught far more of the essence of everything that had happened on that little muggle street. Stooping around on the floors, he located the old picture, which had somehow ended up beneath the old worn couch. Laughing moronically as he picked it up, he flipped it over to study the photograph.

"Oh Rodolphus, how you failed us."

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><p><strong>An: **Thoughts? Chapters are pretty long now just because this story is getting so long and I don't want to settle with rather short chapters (for this story) anymore. Hope you liked it!

I'm sorry I didn't reply to you amazing reviewers this time around! It will be a priority for next week I swear!


	29. Away, all of The

**A/n**: Alright, here comes action and drama! Kind of slow in the beginning, but you will all hate me when it comes to the end. The next chapter is definitely going to be a big one! So make sure to leave a comment at the bottom here to let me know what you think is going to happen! And as always, thank you for the reviews!

The facebook link is at the top of my profile! Thanks to my beta, **JDeppIsMyLovely**, and enjoy!

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><p><strong>Away, all of The<strong>

Her focus was elsewhere than the photograph beneath her. The picture of Andrew and Martha glared up at her, the sole thing she had taken from Lucius's domain upstairs. It was an important clue to the mystery around them, but damn it all if she was going to figure anything out.

Her mind was focused solely on that blond bastard's son's lips. Damn it all, his kiss had been powerful and she wasn't sure what to think about it. It was unexpected, an unnerving. Certainly it was something to puzzle about indeed! But did this really explain his odd behavior lately, or did it just add to the mystery? She wasn't even sure anymore.

Hermione reached up and ran her fingers through her hair. The library was even colder than her room- perhaps because this room did not have a heating spell already set on it- and she found herself shivering. A nice jumper would've been great, but there was no way she was ready to walk back in the direction of her room- and Malfoy's. No way; she had too much to ponder.

Why did he do it? And on another note, what about Pansy's story? It was twisted, demented, and horrifying! She couldn't believe someone went to those extremes to control another human- and it set her mind on edge. If she was not able to stop Rodolphus when she met with him- if she could not beat him, would he put her in a similar situation? But really, how could he when she was not enslaved to _him,_ but his nephew. And seeing as Lestrange was not a Black at all, he had no power over her, yes?

She shuddered to think what he would make her do if he did. A part of her was reminded of her conversation with Pansy, about being _lucky _that it was Malfoy who had control of her, and in that moment she really was. There were far worse people who could have a hold on her, but they didn't.

Shoving the photograph and her books away, she rested her head on the freezing table. There were too many things to think about, and the holidays were just to close. She sniffled a bit, reminded yet again that her parents would be absent for this Christmas and every year after; she may end up dwelling on that thought way too much in the coming years if she didn't let herself move on.

Sitting back up, she gazed down at her arm. It really did look bad, the mark. She traced the word 'failed' slowly; she had failed to protect her parents.

It was only then that a sob escaped her lips. She felt so alone, so small sitting in that Manor. She would never know her mother's touch again, or her father's comforting hugs. And for that moment, in a Manor that would soon be brimming with people, she felt utterly alone.

* * *

><p>"My assistant has taken his leave unexpectedly for the holiday," Snape drawled, sitting beside Minerva in the Headmistresses office. So many of the staff members were gone that they had taken to sitting in one another's company more often than usual.<p>

She nodded, sipping her tea. It was early, but she currently had nothing to attend to and tea had sounded perfect; sitting with Severus Snape for a cup of tea was an odd spectacle in itself however. The usual monotone wizard could sometimes- rarely- lighten his mood when the type of tea suited him, and by this time he made good company. "I noticed this. It's quite odd that he waited until Christmas Eve to visit his family."

Snape nodded in return tightly, sipping the hot liquid. Although he had survived the war, that horrid curse Voldemort sent his way in the end had really taken its toll. The spell had bounced off something in the process of hitting him, and thus had weakened its strength. Still, it had hurt the Potions Master. It had been very early in the year when he discovered that he could not do the demanding schedule of Hogwarts full on anymore; his body could not take it. Only then had he permitted the Headmistress to go through with her original plan and hire him an apprentice. The first few weeks he had taught alongside the man, but now he had designated him to teach on certain days and often to younger students. It was a breather for the older man if nothing else.

That had been just after Hermione Granger fell ill. She had not encountered the man much at all, and –come to think of it- he suspected his godson hadn't either. It was probably for the better, since the man- Adonis Baneberry- hated upperclassmen.

Then again, he had been taken from upperclassmen classes for scaring some of the girls. Snape had witnessed on more than one occasion wandering eyes and that could not be tolerated. At least he had no interest in the younger students, and that was why Snape found himself speaking with the sixth and seventh years more than he cared to.

If he recalled correctly, he always had an interest in Parkinson in specific, a fact that Snape had noted her boyfriend Zabini did not take lightly. At least the bloke paid attention to those kinds of things, right?

"Very odd indeed."

The pair had started this habit out ages ago, taking tea and conversations in Minerva's office, but back then the conversations had been very centralized around Hermione Granger and her position with Draco Malfoy. It had not surpassed any teachers teaching Hermione that year of what had transpired that summer in her very home, nor that the killer of her parents was an alleged murderer and escaped death eater. It had been discussed on more than one occasion that perhaps situating her living quarters among a former Death Eater was not the best of choices.

That of course had been before her cancer was discovered. Seeing as those two students really hadn't left their rooms since she came down with the disease, it did not take a mastermind to figure out just how she had gotten better from something practically fatal. They had spoken of this on more than one occasion, but gave Malfoy the benefit of the doubt; if he had been attempting to reconnect with this uncle, he would not have helped her. From then on Malfoy had been seen as a helper in Hermione's situation instead of an obstacle. Besides, it wasn't like their room situation was going to change anytime soon, what with the Head Girl's room being unavailable. It was just good to know that both of them were likely to survive the school year.

They didn't speak again for a long time. Neither of them wanted to ponder why Baneberry suddenly decided to disappear, nor the fact that they both suspected that Hermione Granger had gone home for the holidays to Malfoy Manor.

These were the kinds of topics that made the staff weary. Despite what one might think, the staff knew a lot more about what went on between students in the Hogwarts halls then the students liked to believe.

Things such as the rumors that had transpired while Malfoy and Granger were otherwise occupied. Now if they only knew that the dirty secrets had been started by a teacher himself then they might look at the rumors with a closer eye, inspecting how people knew.

For it had to just be whispers flying around that Hermione's parents were dead, and Malfoy was comforting her, right? No student would have known anything about that, and if they did, they would surely be smart enough not to say something.

And so they continued to drink on in silence, forcing the topic about Baneberry away, for there was nothing there in that situation at all to worry about.

Right?

* * *

><p>Draco found Hermione later softly crying in his library. Startled, he nearly rushed to her, but reminded himself that if he did rush over it would only make her suspicious as to why he was so worried. So instead of rushing, he chose to walk over slowly, forcing himself to not seem too concerned. He had already made things uncomfortable earlier and didn't want to make things worse.<p>

She just had to choose the seat with a table, didn't she? This was by far the most uncomfortable and coldest place to sit in the whole Manor. Resisting the urge to groan, he pulled out a chair and sat beside her, waiting until she acknowledged his presence to say anything. When she finally looked up from the cushion of her arms, he noted that her cheeks were tear-streaked.

"What's got you crying Granger," he asked, raising an eyebrow. He couldn't help but cringe as she sat up, wiping her nose and eyes clumsily on her sleeves.

"Nothing," she muttered, placing the photograph of an alive Martha and Andrew Evans inside the only book on the table. She gave him a watery smile but he just rolled his eyes, seeing right through her mask.

"Bull shit Granger" he said, leaning back in the stiff piece of furniture. "You rarely cry, unless something really bothers you. So what is it?"

"You care far too much about my feelings for anyone's good," she muttered, avoiding his face, but mostly, his lips. It was hard to look at him. In a louder voice, she spoke again before he could ask what she had said. "It's really nothing Malfoy." Standing, she snatched up her book. Unfortunately, Quidditch had perfected the blond's reflexes and he caught onto the opposite side of the item as she pulled it from reach, eyebrow still up.

"I guess I'll repeat myself since you want to be stubborn; what's wrong? You can't just go around crying all the time Granger; I've seen you cry far too many times, and if you are willing to cry in front of me, there is no telling what you would do if you're beloved friends were more available. So, I don't expect a long drawn out explanation of what's bothering you, just tell me what's wrong. Did my father hurt you somehow the other day?"

"Nothing like that," she snapped, letting go of her side of the book. The blond git kept a grip on it, the book remaining outstretched towards her. But suddenly, he had changed the atmosphere of the room and she was no longer interested in the item. "It's just the holiday," she sighed, turning away from him.

She heard the chair scoot against the ground, but no footsteps. "And why does the holiday bother you so?"

The girl scoffed. "We have been over this more than enough! I really don't want to talk about it Malfoy," she continued taking a few more steps away from him., "let's just go find Pansy and Bliase."

"Pansy has gone off to help my mother, and Zabini was asleep on his couch the last time I saw. Stop avoiding the question Granger; what's bothering you?"

She heard him walking behind her, and in a moment he was facing her again, that stony look present on his face like usual. It seemed you had to startle this man to get any real emotions to show through. Sighing, she noted that he still held the book in his hand.

"My parents," she said, remembering the three presents that still sat in her room, "It's lonely without them."

He raised an eyebrow. "You have me- and all the lovely Slytherin's here," he quickly added, seeming horrified that those words even passed over his lips. "You're only feeling alone because you make yourself feel that way."

Hermione glared. "I'm lonely because this is the first Christmas I will share without them."

"Yes it is," he said curtly, not bothering to save her emotions, "but there are people around you who can cushion the pain, if you simply give them the opportunity." Flipping the book, he extended it towards her, waiting until she took it before he turned his back on her. "Guests arrive at approximately seven o'clock, and I have absolutely no idea when they will be dismissed. I suggest you head back to your room before then, less you want to get trapped in here trying to avoid a bunch of Purebloods."

And with that, he left her standing in the library, completely confused. His icy attitude was so odd compared to the warmth there had been a short time ago in his sweet kiss. Was he just as confused as she was and was using a hostile attitude to mask that fact, or did he really feel put off with her? She was curious to find out indeed.

But for now, she wanted to retreat to her room early. She had more to consider now; did he mean he could be her cushion, or was that a push to go and speak with her friends? She wasn't quite sure which it was.

* * *

><p>Draco was going to explode. Storming back into his room, he slammed the door shut, throwing himself on the bed. That girl was good for nothing but inducing headaches at this point. He had attempted to be nice at the beginning- even before that bloody fucking kiss- but now he found it even more difficult to be civil when he had raging thoughts in his mind and the problem of dealing with her shattered heart.<p>

And Draco Malfoy was certainly not a heart healer. He was more often then not a heart breaker, but never a healer. That went against everything he was taught as a Malfoy, and that couldn't be tolerated. He wasn't going to go soft over someone he had _enslaved. _

Then again, he had dared to kiss her, and the action had ignited a fuse that had been dead for a long time; in that single moment he had been purely happy, and it was a scary concept indeed. He needed Granger to feel happy? Now everything in the world was wrong.

Groaning, he rolled over and shoved his face into the pillow next to him, hoping to suffocate. His conversation with Blaise echoed in his mind;

_"Really now," the Italian pressed, turning to face his friend instead of the mirror. "Then tell me Draco, what do you really think of Granger?"_

_He sighed, running a hand through his hair. This was an uncomfortable topic if there ever was one. How was he expected to answer this? "She's tolerable," he tried, watching his best mate's eyes narrow suspiciously at those words; he defiantly wasn't being believed. _

"_Bull shit," the Italian snapped, crossing his arms. "You don't look at a person the way you look at Granger if they are only tolerable. Don't insult my intelligence by lying to me Draco; I have eyes, and I know what I see. There is an inevitable attraction between the two of you that both of you try way too hard to ignore."_

_Draco scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself; there's nothing there. She's likely more attracted to you than me." _

_Zabini raised an eyebrow. "Doubtful. You don't see it because you are on the receiving end of those looks- and are too busy trying to block out your own thoughts- but she looks on at you with huge lovesick eyes. She won't admit to it though- and she's just as fucking headstrong as you, so she's unlikely to fall head-over-heels for you- but it's obvious enough in the way she looks at you and her body language. If you would just open your own eyes you would see it clear as day, just like you normally do with girls." _

_The blond looked away. He wasn't blocking out any thoughts; he had no emotional ties to the Gryffindor. He planned to protect her, but that was only because he didn't think his uncle needed to kill her. He didn't like her like Blaise was speculating, and he would appreciate it if the Italian would drop the subject._

_He just cared for her… like any friend would… did he really just think that?_

_Realizing that Zabini was still staring at him with a knowing expression, Draco cleared his throat. "You have too much time on your hands Zabini."_

"_But you're not denying anything," Blaise replied, lighting up. He felt he may have actually dented Malfoy's defenses for once; it could take ages sometimes to even get Malfoy to lean towards listening to what someone has to say. If Malfoy had decided to listen Blaise would certainly categorize it as an achievement. _

_The blond glared, but said nothing. Smirking, Blaise took his silence as acceptance. Even if he was too proud to speak it aloud, he would at least acknowledge that there was something there between him and Granger._

_Interesting._

Draco ran a hand through his hair, finally turning his head to breathe again. Zabini had certainly been onto something, a fact that he hadn't ignored this morning when they spoke. And now he couldn't rightly deny that he felt no emotional ties for the brunette since he had openly kissed her just minutes after Blaise had taken his leave.

Yeah, something was certainly wrong with him. Rolling over, he replayed that moment in his mind's eye. He had wanted to catch her off guard, to prove a point to her that yes, he did care a bit more than either of them wanted to admit. And now he would have to face that at some point.

Admittedly, his behavior in the library had been chillingly cold. He had been able to at least acknowledge that she was crying, that she was sad, but he had done nothing to embrace her; after that morning, he thought it might be too awkward. So instead he had been a right arse to her, and then left. Yes, that would certainly make the entire situation easier.

Groaning, he willed his bed to swallow him; at least that way he wouldn't have to deal with all the emotions and questions coming his way. The blond could not tell you how long he laid in that bed, but soon he heard Granger's door open and shut, her soft footfalls catching his attention in the otherwise silent atmosphere.

_Go talk to her; delaying things won't do you any good. _However, it took a lot more willpower then one would think for him to stand up. By the time he had drug himself to his feet, the sounds coming from her room had ceased. Hesitantly, he opened the adjoining door.

She was nowhere to be seen in the lavish space, but he could hear the sound of a shower running, and quickly stopped moving. Would she hex him for invading her personal quarters? Technically, it was his space, seeing as this was his wing. Stepping in, he shut the door softly. May as well not delay anything else.

He quickly situated himself at her desk. Although there were far more comfortable chairs on the other side of the room, he opted not to sit on them; for some reason, he was drawn to the desk. Glancing down at the mass amount of papers lying there, he noted a letter from Potter and Weasley, which was no big surprise. But how did she have so many papers if she had not brought her schoolwork with her? She certainly hadn't gotten that much mail. Curious, he began to shuffle through the papers, a specific one catching his eye. He gripped it tightly and pulled it from the collection as he noted what it said;

_Tick tock, you're time is nearly up._

_I'm watching you Mudblood; count down your days._

His eyes narrowed. There was no doubt in his mind who had sent the letter, but how long had it been sitting there on her desk? And moreover, why on earth was the girl bypassing a threat like this in the letter. If this was from his uncle- and he was sure it was- then this cheesy little note should be taken seriously; the man was crazy enough to try and kill her _again _after all.

He crushed the letter in his hand. Why on earth hadn't she told someone? Like him! He would've at least made sure the fucking wards were well constructed; they maybe old, but he was suddenly unsure if they had been modified in a while to exclude people who had become the Malfoy family's enemies during the war.

The blond was about to go and pound on the bathroom door, when he heard a muffled voice on the other side of the wall; someone was in his room- female- and he was almost certain he knew who it was. Groaning, he resisted the urge to hex someone.

Speaking with Granger would have to be put on hold for a moment. Turning, he opened the adjoining door and peered into his room, cringing when his suspicions became reality. "Mother," he sighed, stepping further into his room, "what are you doing here?"

Narcissa spun around, her hand flying to her chest in an over-dramatic manner. After letting out a heavy breath, she spoke, "Looking for you of course dear," she said, straightening her gown which was now apparently wrinkled in her mind's eye. "I came to help you decide on which dress robes to wear."

He cringed again. She was still on that? And it was barely one; if he were attending, he would not be getting dressed now. They still had six hours. "Mother, I told you I'm not attending."

Her face dropped a bit. "Miss Parkinson and Mr. Zabini are guests in our home and they are attending; you should do the same. You're father will not be present at this Ball Draco, we need a Malfoy man to be around before your distant relatives begin trying to find ways to take the fortune away since Lucius is now… unfit. You're presence is important."

Draco scoffed; of course there was a hook as to why it was so important he came along. Protecting the fortune was certainly important- and if any of his French relatives caught wave that there was no one taking on the burden of his family's work, then greedy Pureblood's would attempt to persuade his mother into forking it over, and Narcissa could not fight off everyone by herself.

That was going to be a real pain in the arse, but another fact still bothered him. "And Granger?"

The blond woman sighed. "You know she cannot attend; I will not have her kind present and it would only give the guests a reason to come after you. She would be more of a target then anything if you invited her along."

"She still has a right to decide for herself," he stated sternly, "as do I."

Mrs. Malfoy groaned. Her son was being so difficult about this whole matter. Which was worse; having no one around to fight off greedy family members or a Mudblood who would steal all of the attention? Could the woman even live with the shame of having someone like her in attendance? She cringed to think of what words her friends would have when the girl left- and on her son's arm no less! If he was so determined to get her to come, then he must mean to have her along as his date, and that did not sit well with her either.

But above all else, Narcissa had too much time to think about what people were going to do once they arrived. Without her son she would be thrown to the dogs, and even with a few people she was still on good terms with, she would have a hard time staying collected; the extended family had never been very kind, and since they had decided they would come at the last minute she had no time to plan anything.

She pressed her lips into a thin line before speaking. "I don't want her there long, but you had best be with her." Draco nodded curtly, having expected his mother to give. She was too stressed and needed him, and he knew it. Using what he had to his advantage was just necessary, and more so no that he had discovered this newest note from Rodolphus.

They didn't speak again, and his mother just hurried from the room. He knew she was upset, but he had other things to watch then just money tonight, like the Mudblood he was about to bring to a racist party.

_Yeah Draco, this is just a fucking brilliant idea._

* * *

><p>The first thing Hermione found as she stepped from the bathroom was an irritated owl waiting for her to open the window. Rushing over to allow the poor creature in, she fed it a few treats and untied the letter from its leg before she began to read;<p>

_Hermione~_

_I know we haven't really talked since you told us about your summer, and I feel just awful about it! I know you have said you need to stay at Malfoy bloody Manor until the holidays end, but please reconsider. Don't get mad, but we told my mother about what happened to you. She insists that you come and stay with us so you can heal properly. Malfoy may not have tried anything moronic yet but he's still a total git- don't put anything past him. If you need help getting out do let us know- Harry offered to write the bastard if he so chooses to keep you against your will. If he doesn't reply we can storm the place. Please come see us?_

_If nothing else, please visit tomorrow- Christmas Day. It would be splendid to see you, and we found another present for you as well- it was just way too you to pass up! Please owl me back, we would all love to see you and have you spend the holidays with us. Malfoy's company really can't be that marvelous._

_~Ginny_

She sighed, running her fingers over the paper. She would love to see them- if only for a visit- but if she left without letting Malfoy know there was no guarantee that she could get back in. Just because they had a connection through the cure didn't mean it branched out far enough so she could pass through the wards; Merlin, she hadn't even been able to pass through the wards without side-along apparating in! There was no way she could floo back without the channel being opened of all things.

But how to convince Malfoy to open them? He should know by now that she had no intentions of disappearing on him, but he was a Malfoy and he was_ always _unpredictable. He could go right back to accusing her of trying to get away for all she knew. And really, what did she know of his thoughts since that kiss he through at her? If she had thought she was figuring the blond out she was mistaken.

Shoving the letter aside, she wandered to the door. The best way to find out would be to ask, right? Opening the door, she found him lying on the floor staring at the ceiling. If he didn't look so irritated she may have thought he had passed out.

"Something I can help you with Granger," he asked, and she could hear his attitude through his tone. What was his problem?

"Yes actually," she said, stepping into the room. Cautiously, she sat beside him on the floor- one never knew if he would let those icy walls fall again and- Merlin forbid- kiss her. "I want to visit my friends tomorrow."

He barely heard her. His mind was stuck on somehow explaining to her that she was attending the ball tonight- so much so- that he didn't even give her a response. As the silence droned on, she took it upon herself to get him to talk again.

Probing him with a finger, she spoke "Malfoy?"

"Do you own any formal wear," he said, completely ignoring her question. Thrown, she blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"Do you own any formal wear," he repeated, having never seen any dresses the few times he threw clothing at her while she was sick. He took her silence as a no.

"Borrow something from Pansy; I'll modify it to fit to fit for tonight."

She caught onto what he met, and narrowed her eyes, glaring down at him. "Malfoy, don't even-"

"Granger, I understand it's not the ideal situation-"

"There's no way I am going to a party with a bunch of Pureblood gits," she snapped, speaking over him. Hastily, she got back to her feet, the blond following her. "Don't even try and get me to!"

Draco raised an eyebrow at her behavior, about to reach into his pocket to withdraw the threatening note, when she continued on. "II can't go down there Malfoy; they will eat me alive and your mother as well for even involving me. If what you have been saying these past months is true then you cannot expect me to go with; this party is to help your mother redeem herself in this bloody society she loves so much, right?"

He let go of the note.

"I really don't want to go, but she would want me to go even less. It means something to your mother Malfoy, so why don't you just go? I would much rather stay hidden away up here than go downstairs and be ridiculed."

Despite the whirlwind in his mind, he couldn't help but scoff. "And you think I want to deal with those people Granger?"

She shrugged. "They are more your people than mine. Besides, I would never want to wear one of Parkinson's dresses; they are probably all green."

He gave her a soft smile at the lighter mood. "Not all of them; she plans to wear something purple I hear."

Hermione nodded. "That will be different. Are you still going to force me to go then?"

_Say yes, that note is sketchy._ "No," he said, forcing himself to not clench his teeth, "I suppose I can't force you to do that."

_But you could if you so desired, couldn't you Malfoy. _She nodded instead, smiling softly. "Thank you. I really didn't want to go."

"Nor do I."

She rolled her eyes, reaching up to push some of the blond fringe from his eyes that had moved over in the process of standing. Her fingers brushed against his skin, and he closed his eyes. Surprised that the simple action made him look so at-ease, she stopped trailing her fingers across his skin, resting her hand on the side of his face. It was a moment before she found her breath to speak. "You need to go though. Your mother will certainly appreciate it."

Slowly, he opened his eyes. He didn't want to, finding an odd sort of peace I her touch, but did so anyways. "I know."

Hermione gave him a smile. "I should let you begin to get ready then; you're supposed to be ready beforehand, yes?"

Draco nodded. "Pansy and Blaise will have to come with me; you'll be alright while I am absent, right?"

She narrowed her eyes, thinking that statement was an unusual one at best. "Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

_The note Draco, the note! _He shoved his thoughts down, unwilling to ruin the pleasant moment with his ideas. Really, they were being nice and he was in no mood to ruin it. So instead, he just shrugged lazily, watching with irritation as she retracted her hand. "I just thought I would ask; I know this isn't your favorite place."

She nodded to that. "I'll be fine for a few hours Malfoy, but I should leave and let you get ready."

"If I have to," he grumbled, watching as she turned away. Mentioning the note was on the tip of his tongue, but he withheld any words; there would be time to discuss it later.

He turned away and began glancing through his wardrobe he had opened earlier, when he heard her call his name again. "Oh, Malfoy?"

The blond didn't even glance over his shoulder, for if he did, he wasn't sure he could keep his lips shut about that note. "Hmm?"

"Will you open the floo network tomorrow? I want to visit my friends."

She had asked this question earlier, before they started bickering, and he had half a mind to act like he hadn't heard. But the softer side of him, the side that had not pushed away her hand, had other ideas. "After I'm awake, I suppose."

If he had turned, he may have seen her smile, but he kept his back to her, and the expression of gratitude went unnoticed. "Thanks," she said happily, turning and leaving the way she had come. It wasn't until the door click shut that he let out a suppressed sigh.

_There will be time tonight to speak to her, or early tomorrow. Just stop stressing yourself out._

* * *

><p><em>Ginny~<em>

_I'll floo over sometime in the afternoon tomorrow; I have a lot of things to do in the morning but I can't wait to see everyone!_

_~Hermione_

Okay, so the letter wasn't completely true, but explaining that she had to wait until Malfoy recovered from his mother's Pureblood ball wouldn't be that fabulous either, so she opted to just leave that out. She would be there on Christmas Day which was the important thing, and she had to admit the idea of seeing a collective group of people who actually knew how to love each other was appealing; the Malfoy home was cold, but she knew the Weasley's Burrow was always welcoming and warm, which was something she really needed.

The Ball had started nearly two hours ago. She knew that some naughty couples had strayed onto the second floor and near these rooms, but Malfoy- and Blaise for that matter- had charmed the three rooms they were occupying to seem unappealing to anyone who ventured up there. In her opinion, it should've been done to the entire floor, but at least they had been smart enough to block off everything near the staircase to Lucius's floor.

But the problem was, she had become bored. She could always leave the room, but then what would she do? Go and visit Malfoy's insane father? No, that didn't sound too appealing.

Tapping her quill lightly, she noted that the floor had grown silent now. Odd, since there should still be people wandering or boards creaking, since she knew very well that what they had come upstairs to do would not have ended so quickly. Curious, she chanced walking to the door. Opening the door, she peered out, finding it odd that the corridor was empty.

_That's odd._

She considered stepping out into the corridor to peer around and see if perhaps Malfoy had done a sweep and gotten rid of everyone, when she caught sight of a figure at the end of the hallway. It didn't move and instead remained slumped in the shadows. She was half tempted to leave the moron to be found later, but the better half of her mind didn't agree with that. Better to make sure the person wasn't harmed; maybe that was why it was silent now, because something had gone wrong.

Shutting the door, she made her way down the corridor, wary of this person in front of her. She stopped a distance away, recognizing it as a man- a bit of a familiar man- but far enough to be safely away.

"Are you alight," she asked, wondering if the bastard would attempt to strike her, given who and _what _she was.

Had her focus been a bit lower on his face, maybe she would've seen the smirk, but she was far more interested in figuring out if he was injured or intoxicated, and that made her easy.

In seconds, he had done something unexpected and kicked her legs out from under her, knocking her to the floor. She didn't lose her grip on her wand however, and quickly aimed a spell at his head. The man, it seemed, had been anticipating this and dodged her spell, grasping her neck and dragging her to her feet in a painfully tight grip. She remembered this hold from a different time, and her eyes were wide before she ever hit the wall.

She kicked his knee, but it did nothing to deter his determination. Her wand had fallen sometime between being choked and thrown against a wall, and she was now wishing she had remained in her fucking room. He had her pinned, and leaned in close, his horrendous breath attacking her face.

"Remember me?"


	30. Sanity in Me

**A/n**: You will all hate me for the end, but if I cut it off anywhere else it would've been too short or just very awkward, so I guess you're stuck with this. The rest is good though I think! In fact this is one of my favorite chapters :D

The facebook link is at the top of my profile! Thanks to my beta, **JDeppIsMyLovely**, and enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Sanity in Me<strong>

_These wounds won't seem to heal, This pain is just too real, _

_There is just too much that time cannot erase_

_When you cried I'd, wipe away all of your tears_

_When you'd scream I'd, fight away all of your fears_

_I held your hand through all of these years, but you still have, all of me_

* * *

><p>One word could sum up how Draco was feeling; pissed. There were two kinds of people at this party: bitches and quiet souls. Some people seemed to have come only with the intent of making his mother feel worse. It was after the third outburst that he had decided to set Blaise up for patrol to kick out anyone else like that, while he continued to deal with their estranged family. How lovely it was to see their scowling faces.<p>

Really, he didn't understand how people could be so inevitably posh and cold. It was like speaking to ice, and the people really did only have one thing on their mind; money. He was actually glad he had decided to attend. At least he was there to help his mother. It was more than obvious as he watched people that some were actually there as friends of the family. People his mother had been well acquainted with before the war smiled whole-heartedly at her each time they passed. He beamed at the look on her face; she had not smiled so much in years. Now if he could only remove the rest of the idiots, life would be good and she could really enjoy herself.

But that was going to take a lot of work. Time had flown by quickly, which was a blessing. He had avoided any money-hungry witches thus far, and had only shared a single dance with Blaise's own date. Besides that, he had taken to leaning against a wall behind one of the tables.

He had little interest in remaining. The note he had found that was clearly from his uncle burned in his dress robes pocket, and he wanted nothing more than to go and speak to her about it. He felt it would be too awful of a topic for Christmas Day; she already had a difficult time with the holidays. Besides, she wanted to go visit those friends of hers, and he felt he shouldn't get in the way of that either. Hadn't he been saying for some time that she should involve them?

Pansy walked up to him them, her purple dress sweeping around her. "When do you think they will start leaving?"

He scoffed. "You know as well as I do that no one ever leaves early. We will be lucky if we sleep before sunrise at this rate."

She nodded, watching Blaise talk animatedly to some lonely man who seemed to be boring him to death. "And how long must we attend?"

Draco glanced at her. "You are a guest and can always leave whenever you please; I will stay so long as these blundering idiots continue to bother my mother."

The girl smiled then, reaching up to pat his shoulder. "That's so sweet of you Draco."

"Yes, well" he replied awkwardly, rolling his eyes. Pansy didn't reply, and instead held her hand out to her boyfriend, who was wandering up to them. Those two certainly looked happy together.

_At least if Granger had come I wouldn't feel so alone around those two._

* * *

><p><em>"Remember me?"<em>

She shivered in his grip. Lestrange was the last person she wanted to be dealing with, and the chokehold around her neck only made her vividly aware of how horrible things had been last time, and how tight he was gripping. Her vision blurred, and she hoped he didn't mean to make her pass out. That could be fatal for her.

When she gave no response, he struck her head against the wall. Biting down a groan, she forced her eyes shut.

"Is your memory that tinted? Come now Mudblood; you can't have forgotten that easily. Silenco," he breathed, watching her eyes widen as he took away her only way to attempt to get help. "Why so sad miss Granger? Did you think I missed the fact that there is a large party downstairs? I can't have you get your wits about you and actually let someone hear you; now walk."

He shoved her and she stumbled, shock rushing through her body. This certainly could not be happening. Not now! She had it planned perfectly in her mind when this was going to take place, so she could have time to prepare, but now he was going to ruin everything by dragging her away during this Ball. She couldn't scream and didn't have her wand; how would she ever let anyone know she had been taken?

_I should've gone to that bloody Ball with Malfoy; at least then it would've been harder for him to get to me. _He was hauling her down the hallway now, and her mind was spinning quickly; if he got her out of that Manor she was good as dead. But if the wards permitted his access then did it matter where he was in the place? Couldn't he just apparate? She shivered to think that he had that option. Halfway to the next corridor she kicked his shin. He growled in pain, slamming her into the wall face first.

"Don't be smart," he growled, pressing her against the stone to near suffocation, "I will make it harder for you girl, so much harder! It will already be bad enough, your death."

She didn't let the shiver of fear escape her. She had to get away from this madman, but how could she when he seemed to have an iron grip on her? Plus, he had a wand, yet another advantage that she was missing. Even if she got out of his grip there was no stopping him from hexing her, making her scream for silent ears that could not help her.

But she had to do something. As he began walking again, her ears picked up on distant footsteps. Thrilled that someone had decided to come upstairs she began stomping her feet, throwing herself into a nearby stand that sported an expensive looking statue. The figure toppled of the top and crashed into the floor, breaking. She smiled, there was no way her noise had gone unnoticed now, and he would be caught.

Instead of picking up his pace or looking fearful, the damn bastard laughed. He gripped her chin forcefully, making her look forwards. "Don't try Mudblood; that person isn't here to help you. He isn't here to help anyone." Unknown to Hermione, he glanced over his shoulder and nodded towards the man at the end of the corridor. He had only agreed to help so long as this game had something for him in the end, and it was time he picked up his payment.

"He's just my little surprise."

Those words didn't comfort her at all; she began to wonder who it was. Lucius perhaps? He did have the picture of the Evans upstairs, yes? It was possible that the pair had maybe worked together, but that couldn't be right; he didn't have half a mind most of the time! How could he ever communicate with anyone outside the Manor in his state of mind? She shook her head slowly, now very concerned. How had he smuggled someone else into the Manor as well?

She cut her thought process off as they hurried along. She had to find an escape route away from him. Being soundless was a huge disadvantage and she couldn't let him get far with her; it had to be someplace she could get to her wand, get downstairs to the Ball, or hide.

He drug her around a corner, and she spotted something she never thought she would be so happy to see. It was a dangerous risk to travel those stairs, but she didn't know where his accomplice was and couldn't chance being grabbed halfway down the hallway. It was completely possible she didn't stand a chance no matter where she ran to, but she couldn't just stand by and let him drag her wherever he pleased, and at least this way she would (hopefully) have a diversion.

If Lucius wasn't the one he had been scheming with.

Kicking her leg out hard, she connected with the back of his knee, causing him to topple over, dragging her with. They stumbled over each other, hitting the floor hard. She recovered first however, having been prepared, and scurried away from him on the floor. The man caught her ankle, but she was quick to kick him off. Adrenaline pumping, she stood and bolted away from him, climbing the staircase.

A spell shot past her head, barely missing her nose as it hit the wall, burning away at it for a single moment. She didn't- couldn't- let that scare her though and continued to climb as quickly as she could.

"There's nowhere to go Miss Granger; you can't hide from me," came his daunting voice, calling up the staircase. The sound of his footfalls and nearing voice caused her to try and move quicker; she couldn't be caught.

A second spell shot past her, this one blasting open a chest. Debris flew all over: if someone asked her she would never know what objects had hit her. They were on the third floor by now, so no one would hear the racket going on. She could only hope that her plan would work out, and not backfire in her face.

Hopping over a spilt suitcase, the items missing, her foot caught and sent her tumbling into the ground. She hit her nose, feeling it break, and cursed herself for being so bloody stupid. Fighting back the pain, she flipped over and attempted to stand, when a foot came down and pressed on her stomach.

_Shit._

The leering face of Rodolphus sneered down at her. "Where are you going to run now girl? There's no one around to save you." He drew his wand again, leveling it with her face, he removed his foot slowly, watching her carefully for any signs that she planned to try and run again. Smirking, he raised the same leg and brought the foot down on one of her outstretched ankles, his smirk widening as he heard the satisfying snap of bone. He watched her with glee as she screamed silently, only wishing then that he could hear her; she deserved every bit of it.

"That will teach you to run. Be good, and don't move."

She stared up at him, tears breaching her yes, wishing more than anything that she had been able to run the seven feet further to the barriers edge. She was just shy of where Draco had placed the new limitations, and could receive no help from the elder blond from here.

She almost smiled at her foolishness. Lucius Malfoy, help her? The day would never come. He could have been a diversion at best, but it all seemed entirely useless now. He hadn't appeared before her in her vision, and she could assume now that he really had been the accomplice.

She was going to die up there in a place bound in silence. How awful.

He raised his wand again. "I have half a mind to kill you now! I have half a mind to kill you right now you stupid, stupid girl! You are so hard to deal with, so difficult; I should've known to have taken your life from the moment you stepped outside of that room."

In the back of her mind, she wondered how he had known where to sit, but couldn't waste time think on it. She needed another plan, one that would get her out of this mess too, but it didn't seem that any sort of solution was going to appear. She dropped her head to the side, staring past his leg at the wall, dirt and grime smudged on the once clean surface. She could imagine blood lingering among those bits of filth soon, and she knew he would only see it fitting; dirty blood next to dirt, right?

Her ankle really hurt.

"Are you listening to me? How dare you ignore me! How dare-"

"You go on about the same topic all the time, don't you?" The voice stopped Lestrange in its tracks, and made Hermione try to twist her head to look. She knew that voice, and had forgotten that no sound proof barriers had been put up to this new restriction; Lucius Malfoy had probably heard all of it, everything since they stumbled up those stairs.

It seemed that Rodolphus didn't know what to think of this situation however. Had she looked up, she may have seen the stunned look on the man's face. He knew that his relative was not rotting in Azkaban anymore, but he had never expected to see him on this little trip. They didn't talk, weren't close, and truth be told the widowed man hadn't given Draco Malfoy's father much thought in recent weeks. He was always a daunting figure when that cancerous cure came to mind, but not since he began planning how to get in there. He had not been in his thoughts for a while.

Composing himself, the greasy-haired man finally spoke. "Prison didn't treat you well."

Hermione, still trying to strain her neck to see everything, scooted slightly away from the preoccupied killer. "Must you do that to her," the blond continued, completely ignoring what Lestrange had said. "Why must you bother me up here? Draco will have another fit when he finds out what has happened now."

She found it strange how composed the blond sounded. He had been borderline insane each time she had recently seen him. So why did he sound so collected? And to bring up Draco, was a strange matter. Why did everyone associate them so close together, like they were best friends?

Rodolphus blinked, thrown. "What are you talking about? I'm getting rid of this pathetic girl! You don't know the trouble this bitch has caused me! Don't' worry about your son, he never has to know."

Lucius sounded very unconvinced about this. "He doesn't, hmm?"

"No," the man replied, confused. Why was he being so skeptical? "She killed people, people who were close to me! Now I am ending her."

If the girl in question had looked between the two men, she would've seen grey eyes flash for a moment. "You think she killed someone?"

"I know she did!"

Hermione, who had finally wiggled away far enough from Rodolphus, sat up and crouched awkwardly behind a nearby object, hoping that Lucius would continue to hold all of Lestrange's attention. It seemed to truly bother the escapee that another ex-Death Eater was no completely on his side of his argument. And, truth be told, Hermione was confused as well. From what she had seen, the blond man really hated her. Shouldn't he be on the same side as Rodolphus?

Then again, she had come up here on the off-chance that Lucius could provide a distraction and perhaps allow her to escape. Getting away seemed to be a difficult feat now, but at least all the attention wasn't on her. Now if she could only figure out how to limp down the stairs towards help she would be doing great; the pain in her ankle was growing, and she wanted nothing more than to heal the broken bones.

"How do you know?"

Again, Lestrange looked confused by all of the questions. "Because I found her at the scene of the crime; she is the only one that could've done this."

Tilting his head, Lucius spoke from his restrained position; "And just who did she kill?"

Pursing his lips, it was a moment before a reply came. "Some muggles I once knew."

And the response that followed was nothing that either of the intruders had suspected; "Oh Lestrange, how misinformed you are."

* * *

><p>It was late, and Pansy had started to feel heavy-eyed ages ago. It probably wouldn't have been nearly as bad if she hadn't helped Mrs. Malfoy decorate and finish up the plans for this event then she probably would've been energized, but she found the weariness setting in and wanted nothing more than to go to bed.<p>

She tugged tiredly on Blaise's arm, who was currently speaking in a monotone voice with someone about Quidditch, a topic which would normally excite him but only served to bore him now at this hour. "Blaise?"

"Hmm," he replied, turning away from the man who he had been talking to. She watched him shoot her a look behind her boyfriends back, but chose to ignore it.

"Can we go upstairs," she asked, tired. She watched as he et his glass down and snaked an arm around her slim waist.

"Of course," he said, leaning to kiss her cheek. "Tired?" When she only nodded, he hugged her close and looked around for his blond friend. If he left the bloke down there alone he would never hear the end of it. Fortunately, aside from an incident earlier, it seemed that he had not moved from his spot on the wall. Towing Pansy along, they made their way over to him.

"Bored," he asked, watching as Draco nodded tightly and downed the rest of a drink; what it had been remained lost to him. Glancing around, he noted that many people had left. No one could say this event had been terrible; Blaise would even count it successful. But putting it on a night like this was difficult when everyone needed to be refreshed for Christmas Day in the morning. Maybe two dozen people remained.

"I'm sick of this crowd," he grumbled, setting the glass on the table in front of him. He registered that Pansy was practically asleep against Blaise's side, but couldn't focus much on that. He never found it very kind to stare on at a couple, even when they were doing little more than standing.

The Italian nodded, shaking Pansy so she wouldn't fall asleep and topple them both over. "I'm going to take her upstairs; you can come and get away for a few minutes, maybe check in on Granger and engage in more useless banter?"

Draco knew that there was some underlying meaning behind Blaise's words, but didn't comment on it. He only nodded, following the pair out of the Ballroom. He stopped halfway out and explained to his mother where he was going and that he would be back, when he spotted her crestfallen look that he was already leaving. He owed it to her to return.

The walk upstairs was swift since Pansy was struggling to stay awake, and rounding the corner Draco had never felt so happy to spot the room next to his. Speaking to Granger for a few minutes would be a nice change from the dull, gossip-filled banter women had tried to engage him in all night. He jutted off from the pair, knocking on her door as the duo walked to their own room.

"Granger," he called, nocking lightly once. The scream that came from behind him seconds later removed all thoughts about his bushy-haired house guest. Spinning around he drew his wand and made to rush towards the room across the hall, when he slipped on something. Glancing down, his heart stopped for a split moment. He bent at the waist and carefully picked the object up off the ground.

He held in his hands a wand, one he had seen on far too many occasions. This was Granger's wand, and if he knew anything about her then he knew that she never went anywhere without it.

_What the fuck?_

"I see you out there Draco Malfoy; come into the room and I won't hurt your friends."

Grey eyes widened. That was a familiar voice, one he could not place but he certainly remembered that he had not liked it. Wherever this voice originated from was from something in the past that he didn't like, but what? Tucking both wands into his pocket since he didn't know who was speaking to him, he walked timidly into the space.

The face staring at him from the other side of the room was one that he remembered; one that had been crude, evil, and had come on more than one occasion to hurt one of his best friends. His head snapped over to the stiff forms of Pansy and Blaise, both who seemed very uncomfortable.

Looking at the girl, he noted that her hands shook lightly. His would too if he were faced with someone as gruesome as this again. He may not like the man before him, but his disdain was nothing compared to Pansy's horror and Blaise's anger.

The stout form of Amycus Carrow faced off against them, the three without wands. His focus remained on Pansy as anyone would expect, and in return hers was solely focused on him.

It was Blaise that spoke first; "What the fuck are you doing here?"

* * *

><p>Hermione was stunned when the wand Rodolphus was holding abruptly moved away from her and aimed in the direction of Lucius. "What are you talking about," he seethed, and she could visibly see him shaking, but whether or not it was from anger or fear she wasn't sure.<p>

For the first time, she had the advantage of seeing both people from her elevated position. Carefully easing her broken ankle onto the ground, she watched them. There would be no escaping until they were both completely lost in one another through the developing argument, and she hoped it would reach that point, and soon. Glancing between both, she noted that although both men were certainly insane the blond seemed somehow more composed.

She watched in stunned silence as the blond arched an aristocratic eyebrow, something she had not seen him do since before the war with such power emitting off the single action. "How could you veer think someone like her could kill? She is weak; she doesn't see the power of bloodshed like you or I. She's a Gryffindor Lestrange that should be your first hint that she could not murder in cold blood. The girl might be useless, but she isn't worth the title of a killer. I'm ashamed to know that you even bestowed that honor on her."

Honor? She certainly wouldn't call being a cruel killer an honor, but she wasn't about to argue with Draco's father if he was willing to point out to the man that she could not be the one who had planned the deaths of Andrew and Martha-

_Does he even know who died? Rodolphus never mentioned who, just that they were muggles, but he seems to be very against the idea that I can kill no matter who it is. _

"The only thing I'm going to 'bestow' on the Mudblood is a fitting death," he argued, glancing down at her. She feared that he would try to hex her again, and knew she could only dodge for so long with a broken ankle like this. "You may not believe what I say, but I know what I saw. She killed them, and she will be killed for it."

"Why do muggles matter so much to you," he questioned, and she was surprised how calm this madman could sound. Perhaps the insane persona was all an act, but why? She found herself more conflicted than ever, and the burning pain in her lower leg only made it worse.

The raven-haired man sneered. "Why does it matter to you? Let me finish what I started; it doesn't involve you at all." He dropped his wand arm, turning again to give her his full attention. She scooted back clumsily from him, her ankle screaming in protest. She wished she had her voice if only so she could show him how much it hurt and tell him how badly she wanted him to leave her the fuck alone.

He grabbed tightly to her arm, the one that held old scars. Tearing the sleeve of the shirt she wore, he exposed her forearm and flipped it over, the famous word shining in the dim light of a candle.

"I can do far worse to you," he growled, grinding the tip of his wand against the flesh. She whimpered silently, that Dark Magic still somewhere below the surface. She could feel it eating at her where he pressed, and that she frightening; she shouldn't have felt anything at all! "And I will, as soon as we get out."

The man looked away again, focusing on the blond. "You'll see; you've been blinded by the pain Azkaban inflicted on you. You'll see Lucius, she killed people close to me, and now I must return the favor."

In return, the blond huffed. "So what Rodolphus? You're going to kill her family? I got a newspaper a while ago, saying that has already happened; must've been your work I assume. So what now? You are going to kill the girl too?"

Hermione expected a quick reply, but none came. The escapee seemed to be rethinking what Draco's father was saying. "Why do you ask so many questions?"

"Because you provide few sensible answers. You look for a murderer inside an innocent girl."

He dropped her again, stomping directly over to the barrier, stopping just shy of it. "She is anything but innocent."

"And how would you know, when you seem to throw accusations around like they are nothing? She seems mute, did you hex her? Because I do not see a reason for her to have killed your precious muggles. What were their names again?"

Lestrange pursed his lips. The blond man was making a lot of accusations for someone he thought had not known anything, for he was claimed insane, yes? "They were Martha and Andrew Evans."

"And why were they so important to you?"

Again, he pursed his lips, and Hermione had turned over by now so she could see this. Strange things were happening above her, and she couldn't figure it out. Lucius Malfoy had acted completely insane each time he came up, so why such a change in attitude? You didn't just become sane overnight, unless he had never been crazy at all.

"I had a special connection with them Lucius; she took away my anger."

The man leaned forward, testing the boundaries his own flesh and blood had put up to keep him away. "She did, didn't she? And she was foolish enough to love you."

She watched from the floor, surprise filling her at such an assumption. Lucius was testing more than physical boundaries, and Rodolphus thought so too. He rushed through the barrier, possibly not even noticing it, slamming Lucius into a far-off wall. As soon as they were occupied, she struggled to stand up. Whatever the blond was hinting towards would cause a fight, a distraction like she had originally hoped for. Getting down the stairs wandless with a broken ankle would be hard, and the criminal might be gone by the time others came to check, but at least she would not have to deal with him taking her away.

She had just gotten up and had begun testing how best to proceed with walking when snippets of their conversation again drew her attention. "…die, and it was for the best."

"No," Rodolphus replied, slamming the blonds head back hard against he wall. She winced at the sound it made. "It was not for the best, never!"

The brunette blinked, surprised about the change in topics. Now they were discussing if the deaths (she could only assume they were of the Evans after the conversation a moment ago) were a good idea? What in Merlin's beard was going on?

It was the next sentence though that really stumped her, made her both want to stay to see what else would be said and get away while she had time. "But of course it was for the best," Lucius sneered, and for the first time she saw the common malice in his eyes, "it was done by the best, after all."

Her eyes widened as she slowly took in the meaning.

* * *

><p>Carrow clicked his tongue at Blaise's sentence, hardly sparing the Italian a glance as he looked towards Pansy again; "I've come to collect my payment."<p>

As Blaise moved further over to block the girl, it was Draco that replied, "Payment?"

"Of course dear boy," the slimy man replied, hopping from foot to foot in a peculiar manner, like he was so full of energy he could not stand still even for a moment. "It was in my deal."

"What are you talking about," Blaise hissed, staring back at him, "your slave deal ended years ago. She is not marked to you and I'll be damned if she's going anywhere."

"Blaise," Pansy cautioned, hoping he was right, but the ex-Death Eater cut her off.

"Too bad," he mused, fiddling with his wand, eyes dancing between the three people, "I've been waiting for her to return. House elves are not nearly as good of company Miss Parkinson; I always thought our set-up was pleasant enough."

"Only you would," she snapped.

He chuckled, looking at each of them in turn again, as though weighing his options. It was strange that he had such a tight hold on the three, while each of them possessed a wand that was merely tucked into their pocket. But it did not need to be said why they stood at such attention when it seemed that they could easily take the man down.

No one ever knew what to think of Carrow, and no one knew who he would lash out at first, and if it would be done in a traditional sense. There were too many possibilities, and facing off against a rogue killer was not the best time to start taking chances. So they stood still and observed him, hoping to see him lose focus soon enough.

The person he addressed was not who any of them expected. He turned his full attention to the blond, smirking, revealing a mouth of rotted teeth. "Draco Malfoy."

"Carrow?"

He chuckled at the questioning tone the blond carried. "You seem so thrown that I am talking to you. Can I not make polite conversation?"

"I feel that this conversation will be far from polite," he muttered, the Gryffindor's wand burning in his pocket. If Carrow had snuck into his ancestral home, then he didn't want to imagine who had found Hermione, just that he needed to find her no before the intruder got away. Why else would her wand be lying around, if she was not in trouble?

Again, the man chuckled. "And you would be right. Tell me, where do you think your friend is now?"

His eyes narrowed; it didn't take a genius to understand what he was hinting towards. "So I have you to thank for my missing house guest," he asked, keeping his voice in control. It wouldn't help the situation if Carrow could tell that he was quite affected by the girl's absence.

"Me? Of course not; I'm only here to collect Miss Parkinson." He glanced at her, flashing a hideous smile. "I suspect that she is already gone now as it is."

He shoved his hands behind his back to clench them, mindful that if they were placed in his pockets Carrow may think he was reaching for a wand and lash out at any one of them. "And then who has taken her?" _As if I can't guess myself._

He laughed, an outright laugh now instead of a chuckle. "I will tell you where they went, even how to get there, if you will exchange her for Pansy."

He felt Blaise tense beside him. As if he was actually going to start trading around his friends! "Keep dreaming," Blaise seethed the tense air in the room thickening. Everyone was on edge, waiting for someone to make the first attack.

Amycus raised an eyebrow, focusing his attention again on Draco. "Is that a no then? What a shame; recently I had been under the impression that you liked her."

That stopped everyone, stunning them into confused silence. When no one said anything, the man took it upon himself to resume conversation. "Oh? Have you not yet figured out who I am?"

Draco shifted, noticing that his friends did as well. Something wasn't right here. "Who are you," the blond asked, wasting no time on his games. He had to get moving, although he had the terrible feeling that she was already long gone.

He laughed again, and it reminded Malfoy so much of the way his insane father laughed that it hurt. They were so alike just then, and it scared him. "Who am I? _Who am I?_" He shook his finger at the three in turn. "You lot must not use your eyes! I have been among you for _months _now, in plain sight."

The only person Draco could think of that had been among them but on Rodolphus's side was Theo, and he knew for a fact that his housemate had not been using any polyjuice potion. What's more, the git was now in the custody of the Ministry and could not escape. So who had he been?

When still no one spoke, Amycus cracked a hideous grin, revealing the ugly teeth once more. "I did so enjoy my role, learning how to maneuver through that school with such ease. It came in handy, at times." His eyes met Draco's, and somehow that malicious look widened. "Your godfather was very taken with the idea of someone like me studying beneath him. He won't admit it, but he liked me teaching the younger years. I admit that I would rather have taught your year while I was there, but being a teacher had its advantages."

Pansy's eyebrows shot up, and she stepped from behind Blaise to stare at him. "You were our teacher," she breathed, placing a hand on her mouth. "You were Snape's understudy!"

He chuckled again, that twisted humor peeking out. "Yes, I was. After the war people became frigid, don't you agree? Everyone was too cautious, which is why I began speaking with your Godfather Draco in the summertime. He didn't trust me of course, which makes sense since I have never shown him my real identity. All I had to do was mention that I was looking for a Potion Job, and he had me assigned to help him, what with his war injuries. I must say, it was the perfect plan really. I started in October, just after you're bloody Mudblood started getting severely sick, and I covered his classes when he was too tired. It worked out perfectly; I was right in the middle, able to hear and see everything without drawing attention to myself."

Draco recalled several occasions when he had shoved Theodore Nott from his room at odd hours of the night, or had simply left him in the corridors, completely out cold. It made sense now how the blasted idiot had gotten away with breaking so many rules and never suffered house deduction or school punishments for his constant repeat actions. He had someone helping him along all the time, someone who could get him out of any situation he wanted, right up until Draco spoke to someone that Amycus could not control. He should've thought of that solution before, and started looking among the teachers for someone weak. Truthfully, he had not paid the new teacher any mind, not until this very moment.

"And I got to see you again Pansy," he continued, smiling at her. She gripped her boyfriends hand but made no move to hide. "My, you look so much like your mother these days, the similarities are uncanny. But you are quite beautiful." He extended his hand in her direction, looking into her eyes. "Btu the time has come for you to return with me."

"I'm not going anywhere Carrow."

"How sad," he said, rolling his eyes as he turned to the blond yet again. "Draco, be a doll and bring her over to me. I'll tell you where your uncle has taken the Mudblood."

He raised an eyebrow. Why did this man think that he would willingly trade one person for another? This was not the seventeenth century, they were not savages, and people were people, who deserved the right to not be treated like merchandize.

But Carrow didn't know what he was thinking.

Turning, he extended a hand towards the raven-haired girl, who looked on at him in shock. "Well Pansy?"

Her eyes widened. "Draco? What are you-"

"Malfoy," Balsie said, looking past his girlfriend at the one person who was supposed to be his best friend, yet was openly ready to betray him. "Are you fucking insane?"

He tilted his head, letting blond fringe cover one side of his face. "Trust me Blaise, it's the better option." He hoped Amycus could not see the additional _"Play along" _that he silently said before grabbing Pansy's arm gently. The Italian looked ready to kill, but stood his ground and put his trust in his oldest friend, ready to kill the bloke if he really did betray him.

The blond led her over to the killer, ignoring the way she lightly shook. This was certainly not the ideal situation, and he sincerely hoped that Blaise would trust him just a moment longer. When Carrow reached out to grab her, he pulled her back. "Where would he have taken her?"

The man faltered, looking a bit thrown by the question. "Give her to me first and I will tell you."

A long eyebrow arched up again. "I doubt that Carrow. Tell me or there is no deal to speak of at all."

His gaze hardened, his hand reaching out again. "That's not the deal Malfoy."

"There never was a deal." At that moment, he used Carrow's attention to his advantage, drawing his wand swiftly from his pocket and pushing Pansy back. Carrow, surprised, stopped moving and aimed his wand at the blond head, only to have a second wand appear just behind his target, yielded by the girl he had been hoping to obtain.

"There really wasn't," she breathed, keeping her wand steady. She could see Blaise hurrying over, and realized the man's short advantage over the three was gone. They had feared his mind, his methods, and now that they had their own wands as well any worries of being hexed were gone. Parkinson still felt much better when she felt Blasie's arm snake around her waste.

Draco, closest to the man, backed him against the wall. "Where would he have taken her," he sneered, all signs of being calm having gone out the window. He had no more time to waste down here. "Where did she go," he continued, japing his temples with his wand.

The man huffed. "How should I know Malfoy? Why would he have told me? I was only informed of what I needed to know, and I preferred to keep it that way."

Malfoy quickly felt his temper deflate. He didn't know where they would've gone? Now what would he do? "You're lying," he tried, pressing the wand further into his temple. The only response he got was a pained hiss.

"I don't think he knows," Blaise said, watching the man closely. Carrow had never been known for his bravery, that was for sure, and just then the Italian couldn't help thinking how pathetic he looked standing there in fine robes that were now torn, hideous teeth barred to the world. "He used it as leverage, nothing else."

The blonds grip tightened on his wand. This couldn't be happening. He felt his anger slowly ebbing away, replaced by an endless void of worry. Now he had no idea what he was going to do. Stepping back, he quickly stupefied and bound the man, not even wasting the time to look back and see if he had hit anything on his way to the ground; had there been a thud? He shoved past Pansy and Blaise, who were both looking on quietly at the scene, making his way out of the room. A moment later Blaise followed him.

"Draco," he called, but the blond didn't stop rushing down the hallway. "Draco," he continued, rushing to keep up with his friend.

"I don't want to hear the lecture about how you can't believe that I put Pansy in harm's way."

"That's not what I was going to say," he replied, grabbing the blond's shoulder, forcing him to stop. "I'm saying there's a possibility she isn't here-"

"I fucking know-"

"And you shouldn't be-"

"Stop lecturing me!" He shoved Blaise's arm away, grasping his head. He was so angry and irritated. "I don't have time to talk to you. My fucking uncle has her, and you and I both know that means nothing good. I can't just stand here and talk to you Blaise, I have to look." He moved past the Italian again, but it did nothing to deter the man's confidence, and he followed beside his friend once more.

"I know you have to find her mate," he said, hurrying to keep up with Malfoy's rushed steps. "But I'm not letting you go alone; you're more likely to kill everyone first without some guidance."

"Unless you can point me in the right direction I don't need your help."

"That's where you're wrong Draco," he said, glancing around, "you need my help in his moment than you ever have before. Now you can stop trying to push me away and I'll help you find her."

They stopped walking at the corner, Draco's head whipping around wildly. He wondered why he hadn't thought to include a tracking charm in the original cure he made her; that would've been just lovely right now; he needed one.

Turning, he hit the wall. "Damnit Blaise, aren't you supposed to be here to help? Point me in the right fucking direction!"

Zabini, the calmer of the pair now that he knew Pansy was alright, looked around. If he had left the grounds he would be long gone by now, and there wouldn't even be a reason to search, but he got the feeling that wasn't the case. Something in the back of his mind was trying to remind him of something.

"Your father, he lives on the third floor, right?"

Draco glanced over, anger and confusion written all over his face. "Now what are you going on about?"

He inclined his head, indicating towards the ceiling. "The third floor, its silent up there."

"Your point? If he has ahold of her, then he wouldn't just drag her into a room in my home, he'd be the fuck gone by now!"

Blaise held up a hand. "Calm yourself. It's the only place in the entire Manor that wouldn't draw our attention, and really Draco, wouldn't you rather search than stumble around this place?"

No sooner had he finished speaking, than did they hear a thud down the hall. Barely exchanging a glance, they rushed down the hallway, stopping out of breath at the corner, eyes large. There at the foot of the staircase lay Hermione, face down on the floor.

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><p><strong>An: **Let me know what you thought! There's somewhere between 5-7 chapters left, so it's getting close. I don't plan on anymore after that.


	31. I've Tried so Hard

**A/n**: Hope you enjoy. There's a new banner for this and plenty of my other stories, so check out my profile to find the link to my facebook page. I also have sent the first draft of a request one-shot to my beta, so keep a look out for that! It's going to be called "Forget Me Naught".

The facebook link is at the top of my profile! Thanks to my beta, **JDeppIsMyLovely**, and enjoy!

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><p><strong>I've Tried so Hard<strong>

Hereyes slowly opened. She noted that her head hurt- but not nearly to the degree that she would've expected after that fall- and blinked several times as her eyes adjusted to the light. She groaned as she attempted to move, finding that her entire body was sore.

"Good; you're awake."

Her head shot up, an action that she regretted. Malfoy sat beside her bed, a chair- one of the chairs from her room in the Manor- was pulled up so he could watch her. The blond looked tired, and was spinning his wand lightly between his fingers. She had not expected this to be the scene she woke up to.

"What are you doing here," she asked slowly, forcing herself to sit up. He aided her, and it was an action she could not protest. She had never been happier to see his face.

He only rolled his eyes. "I called the family Healer when I found you- she came in and fixed you up. Don't look at me like that, she stopped trying to come ages ago when father got out of Azkaban. Now, are you feeling alright?"

But she wasn't listening anymore, she was replaying what he had just said in her head. "When did your father get out of Azkaban?"

He frowned, leaning forwards to touch her forehead. She leaned against his hand, glad to see someone familiar. "Don't ask so many questions; you need to rest. Now I'll ask again; are you feeling alright?"

No she didn't feel alright; not at all. She leaned back into the pillows again- away from his warm touch- and closed her eyes. Slowly, the events that had gone on yesterday began replaying in her mind.

* * *

><p><em>Immediately, Rodolphus lost control, rushing to the man. Lucius made no attempt to move, and instead of receiving a well-placed hex the approaching man slapped him. "What are you saying," he hissed. <em>

_The blond in return, only rubbed at his reddening cheek. "Must I spell it out for you? That girl couldn't kill a dog, much less a human. How you ever came to the conclusion that it was her is beyond me."_

_It was silent for a moment, Hermione too stunned to rush off, before Lestrange's head began spinning back and forth between the two other people. "Impossible," he hissed, his eyes growing as anger overtook his entire form; "You lie!"_

"_Why would I lie? It's not like I have any reason to lie in the Mudblood's favor. I am simply telling you the truth, which is long overdue; if you so choose to kill her do so for a worthy reason; not an assumption."_

_The man's eyes were dark. "If you are so certain she did not, then why did you kill them?"_

"_Oh Rodolphus," he mocked, tapping his forehead, "I know better than to explain that."_

_Hermione could see his shoulders stiffening, and slowly began to stumble away. They were so consumed in the conversation at hand now that she hoped it was good enough to let her get away. She tried hard to remain quiet, so as to not draw attention to herself; this was nice to hear, but she was worried that if she remained too long her presence would be remembered, and she might be harmed yet again. _

_There was a thud, and she got the feeling that Rodolphus –though the smaller of the two men – had yet again shoved Lucius against the wall; the blond man seemed to be hardly fighting at all. "You'll tell me; you'll tell me now! Why are they gone? Why did you do it? _How _did you do it? You've been locked in this place for ages!" He paused, something slowly dawning on him. "You… you were in Azkaban with me just after the war, before they released you to be on house arrest."_

_A chuckle caught her attention, but she dared not look as she continued on. "You think I did the killing? How stupid are you? I didn't have to kill them; I made the plan, I made the letters-"_

"_Letters?"_

"_And I staged it. But you are right; at the time of their deaths, I was locked away in prison."_

_She winced at the sound of another thud. "Then how? How did you do it?"_

"_Oh Rodolphus, do you think I'm really going to tell you?" _

_Hermione nearly fell over at the next sound; tearing skin. The sound Lucius made as the man tore his flesh was horrible, and she was glad he had all the attention. She didn't want him to kill Draco's father, but it was better him than her, right? _

"_Tell me," he screamed, and she staggered as a heavy weight was thrown back against the opposite wall. Peering over her shoulder, she noted the dark red mark that obscured the blond, the blood leaking down over the front of his dirty shirt. Staring, she could not find a blade, and only assumed that it had been done magically. That frightened her, considering the dark magic now laced in her blood because of the wounds Rodolphus left on her. _

_He moved to strike the collapsed blond again, and she found that she could not stand by and watch anymore; the man was merciless. "Don't," she called, stepping away from the wall as far as she dared. The head of black hair whipped around, angry eyes searching for her. They found her, and he straightened out._

"_Just what are you doing? Sit down, now! You are not getting away." He turned now, the tip of his wand tinged in blond, and she stumbled back a few more steps. Now what was she going to do?_

_Below, she heard muffled, angry screams. Hermione had nearly forgotten that while she could not be heard by anyone on lower floors, they could hear things. She wondered who was screaming, before it dawned on her that it must be Draco. No one else really had any reason to go upstairs, right? Besides Blaise and Pansy, but why would they be yelling? _

_She shook her head slowly at him, continuing to walk back carefully on her injured leg. She couldn't just stand there; if he was willing to start attacking now then who was to say that he wouldn't be alright with killing her right up there for people to find later? The thought sent shivers down her spine. _

"_Stay!" He lunched towards her, and it was then that the adrenaline kicked in. She turned and began half running, half stumbling down the hall, wishing she hadn't said anything at all. But would Malfoy really forgive her if she had done nothing while his father was killed? No, probably not. _

_She knew running wouldn't get her far before she started. She was less than six feet from the stairs when his hands locked around her arms, throwing her back against the wall. She screamed, but no sound came out. Damn, even if she got away she wouldn't be able to call for help until she actually found someone. _

_He was leering at her now. "Just where do you think you're going? You think I would let you get away that easily? No! I have to keep you," he said, running dirty, blood stained fingers over her check, "I have to keep you until I'm finished with you, until you pay for killing them!"_

_Hermione shook her head, unable to do anything else. If he would just remove the spell she would have plenty of things to say to him, but for now that wasn't an option. He sneered, bringing his wand up to touch her temple. She tried to sly away, but found that the wall behind her had become an unwelcome obstacle. _

"_We just went over this Rodolphus; don't kill the girl without a proper reason. People would think you are crazier than you already are."_

_Never had she been so thankful that the irritating blond decided to speak up. But why did he help her? Rodolphus's head swiveled away from her, back to stare at the blond. "Stop talking!"_

_Although she couldn't see whether or not Draco's father had gotten back to a standing position, she could hear just how strong his voice sounded, which was surprising after the gash he received. "I will not; don't kill out of spite. You're going to tarnish the family more than you already have, you ungrateful moron."_

_He released her arms, turning to stomp back in the opposite direction. Stunned, she thanked Merlin that this man had taken a turn down the mental lane, ruining his sense of judgment. Had he been sane, less hell bent on revenge on everyone, perhaps he would've figured out that this was a truly stupid idea before he ever let her go. But he already had, and she couldn't wait around this time. Jumping off the wall, she caught Lucius's eyes for the briefest moments. He had gotten back to a standing position, and was standing proud like he once had, his arms crossed, that telltale cane absent from the picture._

_She was surprised to see compassion in his eyes, but didn't have the time to think on it. Whatever this Malfoy was playing at would have to wait to be considered until a later date. Whatever they were going to discuss was something she could learn when she wasn't in a dangerous situation; for Lucius seemed to know more than anyone about the events that had happened that led to this moment. _

_The brunette didn't let herself listen this time, and instead hurried in the direction of the stairs again. As soon as she got downstairs she could make noise; something, anything to draw attention to herself and get some help before something horrible happen._

_It was when she ogt to the top stair that she heard him call her name. "Granger!" Panicked, she hurried to get down, afraid to be caught and killed. In her quest to escape, she tripped on one of the stairs, her broken ankle screaming as she bent it further, stumbling down the stairs. _

_Her head his first, slamming into the ground. Her vision blurred, and she immediately felt the world swimming in and out of reality. Her mind registered that she was going to pass out, but she did nothing to put anymore distance between herself and the men upstairs as the darkness set in._

_The man at the top of the stairs stared down at her still form. He could hear people talking now, like they had just left a room. He couldn't go down and get her, for fear of being found, and he would not remain either. Dejectedly, he squeezed his wand, Apparating away from the fucking Manor._

_Besides, Lucius Malfoy's words rang clear in his head, and he suddenly had something he needed to do._

* * *

><p>He snapped his fingers in front of her face, his opposite hand resting beside her face. "Granger?"<p>

She shook her head, the memories slowly disappearing. Merlin, he must've found her after she stumbled down the stairs. "Did you find him," she breathed, locking eyes with him. The brunette watched as he eased away from her again, leaning back in the chair, his back rigid. He did not look at her.

"No, we didn't," he snapped, staring at the wall. "I did find my father however; he's at St. Mungo's now- where he should've been all along- and I doubt he will ever be returning here. I forced him and mother to go, since the Healer needed to be focused entirely on you; you lost a lot of blood."

Her eyes widened, surprised that Lucius had gotten out. She knew his mother was probably upset, but the words the blond man had said to Lestrange last night rang in her head. "Can we go see him?"

Draco frowned, looking at her oddly. "Are you mad? We're not going anywhere near him; we will be going to the Ministry however. I had to file a report-"'

"Report," she asked, sitting up again just to be lightly shoved back again, "Did you actually see Rodolphus? You can't just file a report without some real evidence that he was here-"

"If your broken bones and the slash on my father's chest weren't enough proof- and since neither of you were in possession of a wand up there mind you- I could make a case. I'm not making one however, I'm demanding a research is all. People broke into my home last night Granger and hurt the people inside; that will not stand."

She frowned this time, remembering something Lestrange had told her. "Who else came in here? How did they even get in?"

The blond stood, shoving the chair he had been sitting in hard enough for it to topple over. "We never changed the bloody wards; they still permitted Lestrange to get in. If Bella were alive she could probably have gotten in as well. But she's not; he brought in an accomplice, someone who had been hiding at our school for months Granger, _months_, under disguise and he came to retrieve his part of the bargain for helping my uncle."

"Who was it," she asked, quite curious.

"I'll tell you later," he said, holding up a hand slowly, his back still to her. "Now will you please tell me how your feeling?"

She smiled slightly while his back was still too her. He may keep up an icy exterior, but the git had a heart when he chose to show it. Obviously, he at least cared about her well being if he had been sitting in a chair right beside her, when they had rooms with a door that allowed them to talk without leaving the comfort of their beds. He did not have to be in there. "My ankle hurts a bit, and my head, but I don't feel terrible."

"Presents from my uncle," he muttered, before turning back to her again, "Good; we should be going then. We have to go down to the Ministry and talk to a few Aurors; they want to know everything that happened last night."

"Last night," she asked, tilting her head to the side. "So it's Christmas? What time is it?"

"Just past four. You've been asleep for nearly twenty-four hours; I was beginning to worry. But we do have to go; they want to follow any leads they have to find this man, especially since he came after you again." Absentmindedly, he reached over and brushed a piece of hair from her face. She was startled, but didn't remove his hand. "They need to know anything and everything he told you, so hopefully they can find him."

She nodded, reaching up to grasp his hand. It was comforting to know she had someone around that at least wasn't planning her death. If he liked the action, he didn't let the emotions show, and he stood there a moment with her before pulling back. "There's a Pepperup potion on your table; take it before we leave. I'll give you some space to change." Stepping away, he nodded his head towards her desk where an owl sat. "Oh, and the Weasley's are looking for you. You never showed, and I'm guessing they sent their concerns. I left that for you to answer." Turning, he walked out of the room, shutting the door with a soft click.

Hermione didn't move at first; she stared at the ceiling, thinking things over. She didn't want to go to the Ministry and tell them everything so soon after her encounter, she just wanted to sleep. At least Malfoy was coming along; she didn't have to do this all alone, which was something she could be grateful for. The last time she faced Healers and the Ministry because of Rodolphus, she had been all alone, without any friends. But now she had Malfoy, and although she was unsure of where they stood with each other, she was glad to have him along. He had proven to be helpful on more than one occasion.

Slowly, she got out of bed. Downing the potion first, she stood and looked around. He ankle was sore to put weight on, but nothing like what she remembered from last night. She was actually surprised the blond had not asked more questions; he always seemed to want to know everything these days. Walking over to the owl, she undid the letter that Malfoy had left attached to the birds leg, and read Ginny's scrawl as she searched for something to wear.

_Hermione~_

_Where are you? We're all getting worried. You said you would come over, but is Malfoy being a git and not letting you? We tried to Floo you last night, but you didn't respond. Everything is alright, isn't it? Please owl me back and let me know what's going on!_

_~Ginny_

She sighed, staring at the letter. At least it was not the twenty-sixth before she got this, or her friends may have stormed the Manor looking for her, and that would have been horrible. She wondered then, if Malfoy had called the 'family' Healer because of convince of because he didn't wish to go to St. Mungo's and chance her friends finding out hwere she was. She decided she liked that answer, because it made it seem like he cared about her even more.

She couldn't place why, but it made her feel good to know he might care. Scrawling a response on the back of Ginny's note, she sent the owl off. She needed to get dressed, and get this over with. She wanted to be here, away from everyone.

It was slowly sinking in that today was Christmas, and her parents were gone. It hurt, and she looked over hesitantly at the wrapped presents on her desk, the things that would never be opened. Why had she ever bought them, if she knew it would just hurt her when the holidays came around and they sat unopened?

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the tears to stay back.

* * *

><p>Tonks had finished writing down what Hermione had to say a few minutes ago. Now she was gone, off talking with one of her co-workers, and that left Hermione and Draco sitting alone in the room. She hadn't asked the blond to accompany her- she hadn't given him a bloody choice- she had just grabbed his hand when Tonks called her and dragged him into the room after her. Looking back, she was glad she had. A lot of emotions had kept out of her voice because she continually squeezed the blonds hand. She wondered if he could feel it anymore.<p>

Her question was answered as he pulled away from her, using his other hand to massage the sore spots. "Sorry," she said, staring at the table top.

"Don't be sorry," he sighed, rubbing his eyes, "There's nothing to be sorry about."

They were quiet for a while, sitting and thinking about their own thoughts. Hermione wondered what the blond was thinking now that Tonks had taken all of those memories out of her head and played them for all of them to see, but didn't dare ask. It was his family that was the twisted one, not hers, so she wasn't so sure it was polite to ask.

But apparently, she didn't have to. "He helped you?"

Startled, she looked up. He wasn't looking at her, but instead the wall in front of him. "I guess he did, in a way. He egged him on, made him focus on him. He said that I shouldn't be killed over an assumption." She tried to look into his eyes, and when he didn't turn she grabbed his chin like he had done to her so many times and made him look at her. "He, he was talking like he knew something; like he had killed them himself… the Evans."

He pulled out of her grip but didn't look away. "He wasn't out of prison yet, or he was just getting out. There is no way that he could've done it."

She looked down at her knees. "He was talking like someone helped him accomplish it. Who, I don't know. I'm not even sure any of that was real; he could've said it all to help me, but that wouldn't make sense either, since he doesn't like me."

"He doesn't like anyone," the blond replied, reaching out to hold her hand. "Don't worry about it; the Aurors will take it from here. I've already modified the wards and checked the entire Manor. He's not there."

She shook her head slowly. "Something isn't right though."

"What isn't right?"

She just continued to shake her head. "I feel like I'm missing something, something that Lucius implied. I feel like I know where he went; I just can't put my finger on it."

"I'm sure you do, but don't worry so much; that's the last thing you need to do. You need to rest and let someone else deal with that blasted man."

Hermione nodded, but didn't reply. They didn't speak again until Tonks came back, and all that time Draco never let go of her hand. When they stood, he kept her close, and she wasn't going to complain.

If Tonks found it odd to see them so close together, she said nothing. "I've given all the notes to my boss, and we'll be searching everywhere we can think of for him. We won't let him get away." She gave Hermione a soft smile. "With Amycus in custody, we should be able to figure something out."

Draco nodded, but she just looked down. She knew she was missing something, and it bothered her that she could not place it. That man had tried to kill her so many times; she deserved to at least know he was no longer roaming the streets. She felt so close to knowing where he had gone, yet she just couldn't figure it out.

She clicked back into the conversation when she felt his grip tighten on her hand. "…soon, so don't worry about it. I'll have everything sorted out as soon as possible. I'm just not sure when they will let him go free again, if at all."

Hermione frowned, confused by this turn of topic. "I doubt so. Mother has paid St. Mungo's each time, and although they have accepted her bribes in the past I doubt they will anymore, now that he is trying to claim being sane. They're going to keep him here, and she must accept it."

The woman in front of them nodded slowly. "Yes, that's what I am thinking too. If you need help removing her from the facility, just let me know Draco."

He nodded, and the brunette looked up at him to see if she could read the emotions in his eyes; they were empty. "I will."

They said a few quick farewells, and it was then that Hermione found herself dragging the blond down the hall, his heavy body following behind her with a great deal of reluctance. They had just gotten to the end of the corridor when she turned and glared. "Will you please walk? I can levitate you if it comes to it, but I'm tried and I think you are perfectly capable of walking on your own. I'm the one that just got over some broken bones."

He looked into her eyes, staring at her slightly irritated form. "I can walk just fine on my own Hermione; it has nothing to do with my capabilities." He brushed past her and she stood still for many moments, shocked. Had he ever called her by first name before? She couldn't recall just then, and she found she did not care. She liked it; hearing her first name come out of his mouth, even if it was because of some sort of hidden emotions. She turned and hurried to catch up to him again.

"What's wrong," she asked, matching him step for step. She ignored the pain in her ankle again. "Is it about your father?"

"We're not talking about this right now."

"You have no right to decide when we can't talk about things; you forced me to speak on matters I wasn't comfortable with on more than one occasion, now I will do the same to you." She stepped in front of him, glaring up at his form. The blond looked tired and stressed, and she knew it was due to whatever he was keeping quiet about. It just had to be his father, now if you could just get him to talk about it life would be a bit better. "What's wrong?"

He rolled his eyes. "I told you we're not discussing this."

"And I told you; you can't always decide when we do and don't talk about things. You look like you're going to pass out any moment you're so tired; so what's wrong?"

He looked away from her. "Yes, it's my father. But we aren't going to have this conversation here," he hissed.

"Well why not," she retaliated.

"Too many wandering ears."

He had a point, and although she didn't want to admit it he was right; this was not the ideal place to start talking about things. In fact, this wasn't the best place to talk about private matters at all. "When we get back to the Manor then?"

The blond rolled his eyes, before he grabbed her and hauled her down the hall, keeping his grip light and painless. "Yes, alright? Now can we please go?"

"Yes, but what is wrong with you," she asked, grabbing some floo powder. Her question was answered a moment later when the figure of a person she had not thought about for a long time passed by the room they were now standing in. She had certainly looked better other times Hermione had seen her, but the sheer presence of the nurse was surreal. She had not seen her since the night Welsh had died.

The girl looked up, and for a moment she met the scared eyes of Annabelle Day.

* * *

><p>They returned to the Manor and parted ways. Hermione found herself pondering Lucius again and the things he had gone on about, but was still unable to quite figure everything out. In only she could put her finger on what was bothering her, she could focus on something else.<p>

Her eyes slid over to the present sitting on her desk, the two others having being sowed away. She had left out the silver-wrapped gift that she had left there, the one bought for Draco. She had decided days before to not give it to him because they were not close, but things had changed. She still didn't fully understand where they stood with each other, but he had been helping her out plenty lately and the present was minor compared to the things he had sitting in his room, but she wanted to give it to him. Her winter holiday had not been as awful as it could've been in this house, and she could only thank the blond, since he was the only one who tolerated her.

Standing she shuffled to the door. Pushing it open, she forgot that doing so was not the best idea. Upon seeing Malfoy her first instinct was to hide the box she had picked up, but her eyes grew as she took in just what he was hearing. Dripping hair, a startled look on his face, Draco Malfoy was wearing only a pair of lose boxers on slim hips. She could already feel the heat taking ovr her pale cheeks.

"Granger," he asked, startled at her appearance. The trousers he had been about to put on hung loosely now in his hand. "Can I help you?"

She wanted to slap him; if Malfoy was anything, he was confident in himself. It was not surprising to see the git stand there without an ounce of guilt while being barely clothed, but still, he could have some modesty! Despite the brainy side of her brain screaming this, she could not deny that he looked great.

But she wasn't quite sure this was the best time to give him a present. Attempting to sldie the object behind her back without drawing a ton of attention to it, she smiled sheepishly. "Nothing; I went through the wrong door."

It was a pathetic excuse, and he immediately saw through it. Tossing the clothing back into hid oversized closet, he walked over to her, ignoring how uncomfortable she was; it was just like old times again. "What's that?"

"Nothing," she muttered. In return, he smirked.

"If it were nothing Granger, I wouldn't be asking. He leaned forwards to reach behind her and grab it, but she leaned away, putting them in a very awkward position indeed. He smirked down at her burning face, and before she knew what was happening, had locked his arms around her waist, tossing her onto his bed. The box fell out of her hands, landing just beside her on the mattress. He smirked, lunging to grab it before she had time to recover. He fell on the mattress beside her, smirking as he stared at the box. "For me?"

She huffed, "Yes, but I don't think you deserve it now after that little game."

He rolled his eyes, reaching over to pat her shoulder "It was a nice game at least," he tried, before he moved back to the box. She didn't look at him as he opened the gift.

It was quiet as he examined the item, and Hermione realized it had to of been a stupid idea to give it to him anything at all. She moved to get off the bed, but a pale hand stopped her. She looked up to find him staring back at her.

"Thanks," he breathed, and she noted just how close they were. Looking up into his eyes, she was reminded of the kiss they shared and her heart sped up. Would he kiss her again?

Instead, he leaned away and got off the bed himself to place the item on his dresser, the small silver dragon grinning back at them. It would turn red if there was danger, and she thought how much it would've helped just yesterday if she had given it to him. Too late now.

When she didn't move to get off his bed, he came to lay beside her again. It was nice to relax there, thinking about nothing, being so close to one another. It was Draco that broke the silence.

"Blaise and Pansy leave tomorrow. He's still paranoid about what happened; they'll be staying at his Manor."

"Alone?"

"I suppose so." He rolled on his side to face her, and she did the same, trying to ignore the fact that he was still barely clothed. "My mother will stay the night at St. Mungo's, perhaps more, so we will be on our own here as of tomorrow."

She nodded, unsure how to respond. Knowing that Lucius wasn't upstairs would be a relief, but being all alone with Malfoy would be different. The Heads dorm was one thing, but an entire Manor was different. She couldn't say that it was bad, or scary, just that it was new. Perhaps she could get to know this blond git a bit better, and that was something that made her smile softly. She may not know how this would go, but there was certainly something about Draco that had begun to drag her into him, and she was happy to be dragged.

They talked for a few more minutes about nothing, before Hermione stood. "I should sleep; it's getting late and the Healer's told me to get lots of sleep the next few days after everything that happened.

He nodded, but reached up and caught her hand before she could walk away. "Don't go," he breathed, meeting her startled eyes, "Stay right here, with me."

Her eyes grew. "Malfoy-"

The blond huffed. "I think you can revert from using my last name. I used your first, you can use mine."

She looked a bit uncomfortable, but nodded nonetheless. "Okay… Draco, I'm not really sure that it's a good idea. I slept here once, but Blaise found us-"

"Blaise is here with Pansy; he is the only person who has complete access like that to my room, but I doubt he will intrude again. Just stay here Hermione; let me know that your alright."

She nodded slowly. So he had a good point, to make sure nothing happened. She knew very well that the same could be accomplished if they slept with the adjoining door open, but he had slept by her side while she was sick in an uncomfortable chair to make sure she was alright, so she could give him this.

"Let me change," she said, and he nodded, falling back against the covers. Standing, she hoped he would place a warming spell on the bed before they slept if he planned to wear only that. It was strange to think that she was about to willingly hop into Malfoy's bed for a second time, but the idea seemed alright and she did want a good night's sleep. They would just have to wait and see if this was a good idea or not.

She smiled as she entered her room and shut the door. It was a bit daunting to sleep alone, and she found herself glad that the blond had offered her his bed. Maybe she really could get some sleep tonight.

* * *

><p>He awoke that night to something suddenly nudging him in the side. Groggily, Draco opened his eyes, looking around in the darkness for a moment before he remembered that his bed had another occupant tonight. Turning over slowly, he reached a hand out and bumped the girl's bum. He cursed. She better not of woken up to that.<p>

The whimper of pain was what drew him from his half-asleep state. Sitting up and grabbing his wand, he flicked the light on, ready to start throwing hexes. There was nothing in the room though, and he frowned, looking back at Hermione again.

She was curled away from him, her arms curled towards her chest. Her eyes were closed, and he realized she must be dreaming. Setting the wand down again, he reached forwards and lightly shook her shoulder. "Granger- Hermione, wake up."

The girl did nothing of the sort, just seemed to find pain from the light pressure of his hand. Her whimpers turned to near screams almost immediately, and he was quick to cast a silencing spell and lock both doors; having Blaise and Pansy rushing in would not help him at all. He then rolled her on her back so he could try to wake her up, but stopped cold when something caught his eye through her whimpers and struggling.

The word, 'failed', was dripping blood. He caught her arm in his hand, staring at the words. He thought maybe she had recarved them for some moronic reason, but thought better of it. No, something was majorly wrong.

_All that dark magic laced inside her arm, I wonder if Lestrange found a way to use the magic to his advantage somehow. _It was a long shot, but he wouldn't put anything past the man. Reaching down, he pulled the fine sheets of his bed up to stop the bleeding; he always had more, and shook the girl's shoulder again. "Granger- Hermione- fuck it, wake up!"

Her eyes sprang open, and he could see the pain laced into her features even in the darkness. Poor Hermione, in so much pain; he felt bad for her, but wasn't sure what to do. It had to be the dark magic, right?

"Granger, Hermione, what is it? What's going on?" He couldn't figure out why she was bleeding, couldn't feel any cuts in her skin, just the faint outlines of a terrible scar.

She only shook her head, and he knew it had to hurt, but they couldn't just sit there while she bled. Grabbing his wand clumsily from behind him, he aimed and opened the cabinet across the room, bringing a blood replenishing potion to him. Good, one thing done.

He flicked the lights in his room on before he forced her to sit up; she whimpered in protest. "I know it hurts, I'm sorry," he said, hoping she didn't slap him for causing her all of this pain after this. Keeping a grip on her arm, he severed the sheet so he wasn't being weighed down by all the bedding. Forcing her to lay down, her eyes sprang back open and looked at him questioningly.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he breathed, "just please sit still so I can help you. It has to be the magic, right? I'm going to draw some out- I'm not a Healer, don't expect much. I'm going to try to pull enough out to stop whatever is happening, alright? Just sit as still as you can."

She nodded, but he knew she wanted to move and hold her arm tight against her body. It looked painful, and she had lost a lot of blood, and he couldn't blame her for not being excited about this. Carefully, he pulled the cloth away from her arm to stare at the bloody mess. Using a bit of water from the tip of his wand, he cleaned the spot so he could actually see the wound and placed his wand at the top of the scar. He didn't dare look at her as he closed his eyes and began pulling the magic from her flesh.

She screamed, and he expected she would. It wouldn't sound good to the pair across the hall, but he couldn't think about that just then. Growing up in Malfoy Manor had been hard, and this was unfortunately a spell he learned to cast at the age of fourteen. He was no expert, but he knew how to do the spell enough to draw some of the tainted magic from her body.

It was less than a minute later that he pulled away, putting space between him and the girl. She stopped screaming, out of breath, and lay there against the covers, looking beaten. At least now, she didn't look to be in pain. He felt bad for hurting her.

Hesitantly, he grabbed the potion bottle from behind him, uncorked it and handed it to her. She looked up at him through half open eyes. "Drink this." When she only stared, he repeated himself. "You have to drink this; whatever that was made you lose a lot of blood." Reluctantly, she reached out and took the bottle from him, downing it quickly before she tossed it off the side of his bed. Any other time he would've made a comment about that.

Instead he climbed out of the bed silently and went to retrieve a wrap. Upon return, he found that she had moved to sit up, staring at her hands. Without asking, he pulled her arm up and bandaged the once bleeding spot, still stumbled as to how she was leaking blood from her forearm without a puncture wound. In fact, he was confused about exactly how this had happened, but not the source; it had to be his uncle.

He sat beside her on the bed and waited for her to speak; when she didn't he took it upon himself to start the conversation. "Were you dreaming about something?"

She shook her head once. "I wasn't dreaming about anything, I was just in pain. I didn't realize it was even real until you woke me up." She glanced at him. "Do you think there was a motive behind that?"

He shrugged. "I know very little about dismembered magic; it's dark magic that's tainting your blood, but I'm not sure what kind of affects it can have. He shouldn't have a connection to magic that isn't in his body anymore, because it no longer has a body to connect to. Somehow, my uncle is bending it to his will. It has to be another dark spell."

Hermione nodded slowly. "Like the one you used to pull the magic out of me?"

The blond was silent then, for he had been very careful to not say the spell aloud when he cast it, but of course Bookworm Granger would know a spell's properties- any spell. "I needed to get it out of you before something worse happened."

"Like what?"

He shrugged. "Don't know."

They were quiet again, staring at the space in front of them. "I'll take you to St. Mungo's tomorrow; I don't think my Healer wants to make another visit on such short notice. We'll have someone remove the rest the… legal way."

She looked at him. "And what does that involve?"

He cringed. "Needles, a least that's what I have seen. It's a nasty process to remove tainted magic from someone's body."

She looked down. It didn't sound like a pleasant experience at all. "Do you think he's ever going to stop bothering me?"

Draco shrugged, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "I doubt it; not until he's captured."

The girl nodded. "That's what I was afraid you would say."

He nodded. "Don't worry Granger; he'll be captured, and you'll have a life again."

She smiled lightly. "I thought we were on a first name basis now."

"I thought being on a first name basis bothered you."

"Only a bit," she said softly, looking up and smiling at him again. He returned the gesture. "But your father did say something about him… about him not killing me without a purpose. Those words, basically every single thing Lucius said to him, seemed to have a double message. I only wish I could interpret it all."

He rolled his eyes, patting her shoulder. "There's plenty of time to think about that, but you should sleep." He ignored the unsure look on her face. "The days aren't going to get any easier until he is behind bars, and you'll need your nights to rest. I removed a good deal of the magic, so the connection will be harder to make."

Hermione nodded, deciding to listen to him for tonight. She was tired, and wanted nothing more than to curl back beneath the warm sheets. She was surprised however when the blond got up and headed to the door. "Where are you going," she asked, ignoring the fact that she was still in Malfoy's room, in his very bed.

He didn't glance back over his shoulder as he continued to walk. "I have to go make sure Blaise and Pansy understand that I wasn't killing you," he replied, before the door clicked shut. He wanted to give her space for a moment, and get this talk over with.

The blond was hardly surprised to find Blaise sitting in the hall, one eyebrow raised. He had barely shut the door when the Italian spoke; "I had hoped you weren't killing her at least."

"I didn't," he muttered.

"Then what was that," Blaise asked, eyebrow still up.

Draco sighed, turning to place his hand on the wall, his head coming to rest against it. "That, is the result of a problem that I fear can't be solved."


	32. To Tell Myself

**A/n**: Hello there! Exciting chapter I think; some things are explained and a big scene for next chapter is set up, so enjoy! If you like this story you may also like my new, long one-shot called "Forget Me Naught". Check that out if you want!

The facebook link is at the top of my profile! Thanks to my beta, **JDeppIsMyLovely**, and enjoy!

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><p><strong>To Tell Myself<strong>

Later that morning when both residents of Draco's room had woken up again, they found a letter had arrived from Tonks. It depicted that a lawyer was fighting on Theodore Nott's behalf (through hefty payments of course) and had been able to squeeze just three years of prison time out of his talk with the accused. Due to Nott agreeing to help in finding Rodolphus, he had wanted immunity from Azkaban prison. Considering that he was now a felon for associating with an escapee and a killer, that would never happen. Three years was the minimum amount he would receive for aiding a criminal, in addition to the illegal use of dark magic. After his trial, it would be only three short years before Theo was walking the streets of London a free man once again.

This sickened Draco. He hated that people could so easily overlook everything he had done, only to come back and off him less time in Azkaban for cooperation; cooperation does not make someone any less dangerous.

Tonks also explained that Amycus was in solitude at the moment, and would remain there until his trial- which had miraculously been set for the 16 of March, due to another trial falling through- unless called upon for additional information on Rodolphus Lestrange. He was thus far not cooperating.

Annabelle Day was still useless as far as the letter showed. Draco remembered a brief talk with her just over a day ago when Tonks mentioned that the girl had been having heavy after affects from the long lasting Imperio spell, and that they feared her mental state would not be well enough to testify in court against Rodolphus when he was apprehended. She could be used as an example, but not a witness. Apparently, she was being taken to St. Funke's institute for the mentally ill in western Germany until a time arose when the Healer's there felt that she was getting better.

All in all, the letter did them little to no good. It told them what was happening with the people who had become so entangled in this case that they were nearly forgotten, but not about the psychopath behind it all. So far, nothing seemed to be getting them anywhere. Everyone was still searching, but nothing on the man had come up yet.

It was over breakfast in the dining room that Hermione sighed. Blaise and Pansy had come down to see them for a short while earlier, but after Draco explaining the problem with the dangerous magic within the girl to his Italian friend, the pair had been quick to disappear; Blaise knew that his friend planned to speak to the girl about this problem today, before taking a trip over to St. Mungo's. The experience for her there, he feared, would not be pleasant. He had been about to start this conversation when she let out that tired breath of air.

"It's unfair," she said, resting her elbows on the table. If his mother was around, she would have had a fit.

"What is," he asked, setting aside his drink to listen. Whenever she looked like that, she had something to say.

"Everything; he's still on the loose. That wand he had Draco, it couldn't have been his. He was sentenced to life in Azkaban, so they would've broken his wand. He had to apprehend that somehow, and considering who this is, he probably did it through more means of murder. How many people has he even killed. Tonks said in her letter that they were going to investigate that."

He shrugged, trying to not seem so careless, but so long as she didn't get killed it didn't bother him quite as much. "We won't know until someone comes back with reports-"

"That'll take too long," she sighed, shoving her food away as she stood. He watched her from his seat, knowing that his own topic of conversation would have to wait until she was finished going through her own thoughts. "We don't know where he is, when he will strike next; he could come back."

"And I will be here to help you fight him," the blond replied, leaning back slowly in his chair. She was definitely stressed out, but hell, so was he.

"I don't want to fight," she said, wandering around the dining room table now. "He hurt me yes, but that doesn't mean I want to fight the man. I am so tired of fighting; it is all I have been doing for months now." She stopped, taking a seat on his other side and put her head down. "I don't know; he didn't seem that excited to fight at the end of his conversation with your father. Something cracked inside of him, something happened to his self-anger and his revenge mode as your father spoke. Something broke, and I think that's the key here. He was broken for some reason by your father's words, and if I could place my finger on why that is then it would be so much simpler."

"It will only be simpler because the Auror's will have a lead. We still can't really figure out where he went without proper evidence, and that is where everyone is lacking."

"Yes, everyone," she muttered, but he could hear her voice trailing off. He wondered what that meant, until she jumped out of her chair a moment later and nearly gave him a stroke. "That's because hardly anyone has been inside his _mind." _

Draco frowned, very confused about what the brunette was going on about now. "What are you talking about Granger? Who would be stupid enough to try and access that idiot's mind?"

She was shaking her head before he even finished his sentence. "No one; but that's not the point. No one may have even entered his mind, but he entered someone else's."

It clicked in his mind, "That nurse Annabelle?"

Hermione nodded her head quickly. "He had her in a prolonged Imperio curse for Merlin knows how many days. They were his thoughts that were being fed into her mind, so maybe she knows something."

"That woman knows nothing; she's being shipped to an institute because she is clinically insane now."

But the girl was already hurrying from the room, and Draco sighed, rushing to keep up with her. "Yes, she is being shipped to an asylum, but it's due to the thoughts that he implanted in her head. Rodolphus is insane as well, he probably does not have enough focus to not stray in his thoughts sometimes, even when he was telling her what to do."

"So you're going off a gamble, hoping that maybe he gave her a thought that can be translated into a clue? I doubt it Granger; he hasn't had access to her in weeks."

Hermione turned then, ripping the sleeve of her shirt up to revel the famous scar. "He wasn't supposed to have access to me either Draco, but he did."

She turned again and continued down the corridor, and he sighed reluctantly and followed, unsure what to say to her newest retaliation.

* * *

><p>Malfoy was difficult; he completely refused to allow her to go to the Ministry. Even after she had apparated to the location, he grabbed her and took her to his own destination- St. Mungo's, to be treated properly for the magic in her arm. She grumbled the entire way.<p>

"I don't need treatment," she said, protesting as he made her sit on the bed in a room. The process wouldn't take too long, but he only knew a few minor spells to help with what was inside of her, and he knew it needed to be taken care of; this had been delayed too long, and perhaps if he hadn't pushed the scar to the edge of his mind so much he may have remembered the horrible things that can come from this type of magic.

"Yes you do," he replied, taking a seat beside her. Just three floors up and about twelve rooms to the right he knew his father sat in a room, his mother at the man's side. He should go and visit with them, but he was not compelled to. "This needs to be fixed; I don't care how much you hate it, but the longer it is in your body the worse it will be. The treatment hurts, and I won't even lie to you today will undoubtedly be worse than yesterday, but after what happened it has to be removed. I'm not even completely sure what is in your arm anymore."

Her head shot up. It was a moment before she spoke; "Neither am I."

He nodded slowly. "That's why you have to do this; you have to get it removed, alright? This time they will be able to help though- a lot more than I could; you may not even be awake for it."

Hermione nodded again. "Maybe I'll even get some answers."

"Like the kind of magic it is," Draco mused, sitting beside her in a chair. She looked up at him shaking her head.

"Not just that; what it's done to me, and maybe they can tell me if it had any effect on why my cancer spread so quickly. I know he partially twisted the magic to hurt me, using events that had happened to warp it for his own use, and from there he just… I don't know what he just did. Maybe the magic had more of an effect than he believed it to have. Would he really have given me a cancer he knew you had a cure to? It's not like we talked back then, but still. It doesn't seem right."

"No it doesn't," he agreed, reaching over to pat her on the hand. They both looked up a moment later when the door opened and a medi-witch stepped inside.

"Hello," she said, nodding to the two. Hermione nodded back, all the while thinking about the last medi-witch who had been assigned to help her- Annabelle- who she needed to talk to, but was probably getting ready for her trip to Germany. She inwardly sighed, taking in what the Healer was going to do as this new woman- Joann- explained the same process Malfoy had done just last night, only this time she would be asleep like Malfoy predicted. That idea made her a bit uneasy, but the gentle smile from her blond companion reminded her that this man was not corrupted by Rodolphus and that so long as he was around; nothing terrible was going to happen to her.

Now if she could only talk to Annabelle and see if anything had accidently been admitted to her while Lestrange had control over her, the day would be pretty good.

* * *

><p>Draco sat beside Hermione twenty minutes later. The Healer explained to him that she would need to recover for a few hours, most of which she would sleep off anyway. When she woke up he would be permitted to take her out of St. Mungo's so long as there were no odd side effects. He had even been offered to know what kind of magic was coursing through her body, but had declined, knowing she would never let him hear the end of it if he got to know before her.<p>

_Now what to do with the next three hours?_ He tapped his wand on the arm of the chair, utterly bored. He could always go see his parents, but pushed that thought aside. That was something he preferred not to have to do.

Still though, he should. He needed to speak to his father about what exactly the man had been on about the other day, and what all those things he spat at Hermione meant. He also needed to speak to his mother; she had to understand that the man must remain here from now on. He would not return to their home.

Draco sighed. There went his peaceful thoughts. Standing, he straightened his robes out and prepared for the short elevator ride up three floors and twelve doors to the right.

* * *

><p>"You lie." It was the first thing his mother had to say to him when he was finally able to remove her from his father's side and speak with her in the hallway. Of course, the woman was stubborn.<p>

"Mother," he said slowly, trying very hard to keep his voice level so that she didn't start thinking that he was speaking down to her, "He has to stay here. It was advised to both of us that he does, and whether or not you choose to believe me, it's no longer an option for him to live at the Manor, not after everything that went on. The Ministry, the Healer's and myself are telling you that he is now a permanent resident of St. Mungo's."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed; he knew she wouldn't take this well. "Stop talking like that this instant Draco; he is your father, and he has only ever done what he has to for this family, now we must do the same. He cannot be a prisoner to this ward."

He frowns, wondering what she means. "He cannot be a prisoner of the third floor anymore either."

"Then stop locking him away," the woman spat, not bothering to pay any attention to the looks they were drawing. "Don't make him stay upstairs. He has every right to wander our home as we do."

"Mother, I know you love him, but he is a threat. We both know deep down that he can't come home."

She shoved her son then, and the movement startled him. He blinked several times, unsure what to make of this sudden reaction. He watched her eyes cloud with tears, and can't fathom what he has done now to make her cry. The conversation they are holding isn't pleasant, but must she burst to tears over it?

"Why don't you go talk to him," she says in a snappy manner, but her voice comes out choked. He can hear the emotions fighting to break free from their restraint, eager to show him how she really feels. "Why don't you ask him what he has done for this family." She shoved past him then, and he turned to watch the woman hurry off with as much dignity as she could muster at this point, before she bolted into a room that he only assumed was a bathroom. The blond shook his head, bewildered. What could his mother possibly be rambling about? Lucius really had done something to her mind; she was so stuck on trying to have her husband back no matter how unstable he was that she simply refused to see the flaws of this plan. Well, that would never do.

Draco sighed, ignoring the glances people were throwing him as he walked back to the door of his father's room. There was no question in his mind that his mother would return, for she wanted nothing more than to have her husband by her side, so she would have to return in order to have that wish. No matter though, he could speak with his father in the meantime.

Now he only needed to hope that the man would make sense. Stepping back into the room he found that his father was in basically the same position as before; sitting in the bed, his face angled towards the single window here. It looked painful, just like it had before, but Lucius seemed unfazed and continued to sit at the odd angle. Draco could only wonder how he tolerated it at all.

"Father," he said coldly, and Lucius barely inclined his head. When he did not turn to face his son, Draco continued speaking, "Father, mother sent me in here. She was going on about some sort of good you have done for our family. So what, pray tell, is she speaking of?"

To this, he turns. Draco is surprised that the man is gracing him with such a bland, calm look. "So your mother has decided it is time to tell you?"

He frowns, crossing his arms. "Tell me what?

The man chuckles and it sends shivers down the blonds spine. This is not the twisted chuckle Lucius had been giving off for months now, but a calm, collected chuckle like the one he often used during his time in Voldemort's ranks. "Oh Draco, you are so naïve. Did Miss Granger fail to inform you of the conversation that went on between myself and Rodolphus Lestrange?"

"Hardly," Draco snaps, remembering how his cousin had made the girl show them her memory of the encounter. "I captured every detail in fact; you had something to do with the murders of Martha and Andrew Evans, although I haven't the slightest idea how. You had someone assist you in probably doing the killing, but it escapes me as to what you would gain from this, except more time behind bars. And why would you even bother? Besides, you practically told him Granger had nothing to do with their deaths, when all facts tell us that you should hate her and not be defending her. What are you playing at? What does this have to do with anything?"

There were no more chuckles now, the man looked very serious. "What am I playing at? I am playing at nothing son; Rodolphus was the one who was playing, and I put a stop to that."

The younger Malfoy's eyes flash. "So you did assist in those murders?" He threw his hands up. "Do you realize what this means?! You have to go back to court again; back to Azkaban!"

Lucius shakes his head. "Well of course I know that, but your uncles foolishness would not stand in this family! He is connected to us through your aunt and your mother Draco; his flaws reflect on the Malfoy line and that is intolerable for him to have gone out and have fucked a muggle! Did you know they had a son?"

His eyes narrowed. "How do you know this exactly father?"

Instead of replying, the man did something completely uncalled for. He shoved the few cords attached to him away- thankfully, none of them were needles- threw off his blanket, and stood. Draco raised his eyebrows at the sight; the once powerful, towering man was not nearly as intimidating as he had been years prior. They now stood nearly at the same height, one man barely taller than the other. The lean, muscular frame had dwindled away from malnourishment in prison and dank cells that allowed little physical exercise. Standing beside his father, alleged killer, Draco felt like he was the more intimidating of the two, and that was saying something.

"How do you think," he spat, looking his son in the eyes. "Bella knew, back when she was alive. It happened for the first time years ago Draco, _years_, back before her first stint in Azkaban he abused and used that muggle woman, then wiped her memory clean. Bella almost killed her when she got out, but this Rodolphus did not know at all. I have no idea if your bloody uncle loved this woman, or if she was just something pretty to play with, but he dared to soil himself more than once with her. He dared to return again and again. Why do you think Bella so rarely spoke of her sweet husband; he was always too busy sneaking off to find his terrorized lover."

"But Bella was killed by that Weasley woman in the war, and Lestrange went back to Azkaban with me. We spoke only once- for that prison Draco, that prison allows so little human contact between the prisoners and anyone else- but he only had one topic of choice for the few scarce minutes we spoke. He wanted to find her again, for he had learned of a child she now bore, and that was the end of it for me. I would not have some bloody half-blood as a god-child. That was when I chose to end it all, as I should've done years ago."

Lucius began pacing, looking at the window now as he spoke instead of his son; Draco wondered if he even remembered he needed to be addressing him. It was like his father had forgotten that he had an audience as he took a trip down memory lane. "That's when I made my plan; the obsession had gone on long enough! He wanted to return to that woman and make a fucking life with her- granted, an unwilling one, but a life- and that was the end of my line. I would not stand for this. So I began corresponding with her, I began setting up a coded plan, and because she loved me so much, because she would do absolutely _anything _for me, she agreed to take on the burden."

"Who," the blond asked, but Lucius spoke right over his question.

"It took some time to persuade her at first, but in the end she decided it was as good of an idea as I did. I told her when we were caught; we could go to prison together and still be happy, even behind those thick bars." Draco got a sinking feeling in his stomach as he spoke. "It all worked so perfectly Draco- the plan went perfect and all, but I never knew what happened with Miss Granger until a later time; I didn't know that she was being blamed. That's not how it was supposed to go; if they believed she had done it, if Rodolphus believed this, then we could never be caught and eventually we would have to be separated, just like we are now."

"Father-"

"That's why I defended her; that is the only reason. I don't like seeing you with her, around her. I went through so much trouble to ensure that nothing is crossed with our pure blood, and that will not be ruined because you take up a fancy with someone as dirty as her. I don't want her being blamed for their deaths because then my plan fails, but I will never allow her to be your love. Take the thought and destroy it before it develops into real feelings boy."

Draco took a step back, taking in what his father was saying. He openly admitted to planning and possibly aiding in the murders of those two muggles, taking any blame off of Granger. The Ministry would now know, and when Lestrange was apprehended, he would know too. But the accomplice… he was getting sick thinking about who all the answers pointed to.

And on top of that, his father was saying that if he went and tried to have anything with Hermione he would end that too, and considering that he was the only heir to his line, he was certain it would end with her death and not his own, which only made the bile rise in his throat.

He didn't need to hear the next words slip off of his father's tongue; the name of the person who helped him. Barely a moment after it was out, Draco knew he had to get away from this man; he had the answers to everything, and it made him want to vomit. So he bolted from the scene, nearly knocking his mother over just outside the door.

The sick feeling was still there as he paused at a table littered with items to make coffee, small notecards and pens beside the drinks. He quickly picked one up, scrawling a messy note:

_Tonks~_

_It is dire that we talk. I have information to share with you, although I'm not entirely sure I can stomach it. Don't send Annabelle away yet if you can help it; we're going to need her. I'll explain everything when I next see you. Hermione will be with me._

_~Draco_

His heart rate had yet to calm down. Glancing at a clock he noted that Granger would be waking soon, and he turned quickly away to find an owl. He would need to empty his stomach before they spoke again anyways.

* * *

><p>"It latches into your blood stream," the nurse explained, pointing to a figure on the chart. Hermione had yet to hear anything good from this woman, and was tempted to stop listening to her entirely, but just couldn't. Draco stood at her side silently. "Because of the dark, unbalanced origins it jumped around inside of you, the essence unable to latch onto anything other than blood, and that is why the cancer spread quickly; I don't know the story of how you got it, but because this dark power traveled through you it stretched through your body at an alarming pace."<p>

The girl had started shaking her head before her Healer even finished. "Start over; what is this magic? What kind of dark magic is it? Why was it unbalanced? And my cancer resided in my muscles and bones, not in my blood."

Joann took a breath. "This magic is schizophrenic; it came from someone who was unbalanced and insane to begin with. Your magic is a reflection of the person you are; too much anger, and it is not controllable. A person who is calm and collected usually has a high magical core, and the ability to adapt to all kinds of magic- light, dark, potions, anything. When Voldemort was alive and in power, he was constantly angry, but learned to channel that into power; had he been the one to transfer this into you, the magic would have been angry and dominate, possibly changing your perceptive on which side you would fight against. The magic inside of us that makes us wizards is more than just surreal; it has a characterization, just like we all do as living people. Ty Rodolphus Lestrange's magic is hazardous for you because his mind is hazardous for himself, and because he has a jumpy, mental personality the magic he inserted into your body when he marked you was dropped into the first part of you it touched- blood. What he did, the panic and terror he inflicted on you, developed into the cancer you once had- I am sure you have already been informed of how this was done before in previous meetings." Hermione nodded once. "But your blood was still tainted with his essence; that was how he could control you. Considering that Mr. Malfoy informed me that this is the first and only time that this has happened, he either chose to never use that method of torture before or only just discovered that he could manage it. Either way, it is good you had us remove it."

Granger nodded slowly. "A part of his magic was living in me?"

"I'm sure you already realized this before when it caused you pain; he left a mark on you greater than that word. There are no categories out there characterizing the order of dangerous dark magic, but there are levels Miss Granger, progressing from minor to deadly. Be careful for how long you wait to have things dealt with, because you were at a level seven."

"Is that bad," she asked slowly, wondering which way this scale went.

"With ten being the deadly range, it certainly isn't good."

She nodded slowly. It had been that bad? The pain had not been nearly as bad as back when she had the actual cancer, so she hadn't even been thinking about it. Yet he had such power over her that he had never before used until last night, and she never knew. She didn't dare look at Malfoy, because she knew he was giving her a look that said "I told you so". He had been right about the danger this time. "But it's gone right? I don't need to worry about anything else happening with this? All the magic is gone?"

"I recommend a follow up," Joann replied, writing a script which she handed to Draco, not Hermione, with a gentle smile. She then proceeded to look between the two. "I must say, seeing the two of you together is quite the surprise. I always assumed you hated each other, but after that article in the Daily Prophet some months back I began to wonder. Really, it's wonderful to see two people who should hate each other get along so well." She then refocused on Hermione, oblivious to the odd looks she was now receiving from the two. "I'm not sure why your Healer's didn't see this months ago when you first came in; it would've saved you the trouble of coming in now. You may need a few pain relief potions for that arm the next few days; it'll be sore. Now take care of yourself Miss Granger; you have far too many medical reports in the last few months."

"I'll make sure she does," Draco said, speaking for her. The girl was still thinking over what the woman had just finished rambling about."

Joann smiled at the blond. "Very good; you can have your personal Healer conduct that follow-up Mr. Malfoy before the holiday is over. You don't need to come back in just for that, unless of course you plan to come and visit your father."

He flinched at the mention of the man he had just left nearly two hours before, bits of their conversation still echoing in his mind. "No, I'll have the family Healer do it."

"Very good," she said, collecting her things. "Then I think we are done here. I hope you start feeling better Miss Granger, and if you have another incident like that come back immediately."

Hermione nodded mutely, and they waited until she was practically out the door before attempting to speak. But the woman turned back, disrupting their conversation before it could ever begin. "And you two make an adorable couple."

* * *

><p>They didn't speak again until they were back to the Manor.<p>

The mood in the Manor was awkward for a bit after they returned. Parting ways, Hermione found herself back in the alleged library, surfing through books. She had nothing to research at the moment, nothing to worry about, but she felt this was a nicer place to sit than her room, where Malfoy was just one wall away. Healer Joann's comment to them had set both of the students on edge; they gave off the impression that they were a couple? It was absurd!

Still though, she could not deny that a part of her liked the idea of that being true. Draco was not the same person anymore, and she could _possibly _see herself getting involved with him romantically.

Okay, so that was a bit of a lie. She wouldn't mind being involved with him at all. That was something she could openly tell herself.

With a sigh, she turned her head away from the book she had been studying but not reading and looked around. She couldn't focus; deciding to give up any hope of finding a good book, he reached up and rolled up the sleeve of her shirt, revealing the word that still resided there. Her fingers traced the old lines; no more magic lay beneath, but the memories still existed in her mind. It was unfair, that the taint of evil could be removed from her soul but the true pain had to remain with her forever.

"Draco said you would probably be here." Her head shot up, catching sight of Pansy Parkinson wandering towards her, the door to the library open now. She hadn't even heard her enter.

"Pansy, what are you doing here," she asked, recalling that the girl had never been very fond of books.

She shrugged, moving to sit beside the brunette. "I was just with Draco- and Blaise- actually; he was telling us something about what his father said at the hospital-"

"He spoke with his father at the hospital," Hermione cut in, having been uninformed of this.

Pansy nodded. "Yes; they talked about many things actually; I expect that he'll tell you as well once he sorts things out in his own mind."

"Did they discuss what he was telling me that night? Were they talking about the things he said?"

The raven-haired girl shrugged. "I have no idea. He was mentioning something about a plan his father constructed, but Blaise has been talking to him more about these things than I, and I decided to not stick around and become more confused. He said you might be here, so I came to visit." She could see the lines forming on the girl's forehead. "Don't worry; I doubt he plans to keep secrets. Your paths are quite interwoven these days; you seem unable to keep secrets at all anymore. Let him sort his mind first before you rush off to get some answers."

Hermione nodded. Pansy had a point, although she really did want to hurry back to his room and demand to know what had been said. The git must've gone off to speak to the man while she was asleep, even after he declared he would stay at her side the entire time she was out. Perhaps she would have to mention that as bribery in order to get him to tell her what he knew.

She smiled at Parkinson, trying to not seem tense. She feared she would be this way until she had everything sorted out.

* * *

><p>Tonks was busy looking over what she had learned in the last several hours. After addressing Theodore Nott of the capture of his accomplice, Amycus Carrow, and informing the both of them of their rights as well as the time they were expected to rot in Azkaban Prison, the youth had caved. His lawyer, the prestigious man that he was, had been able to first manipulate only a few brief years for his client in Azkaban during his hearing that morning. Another was scheduled to follow soon. It was during that time that the former Hogwarts student turned criminal was willing to cooperate in the investigation to find Rodolphus. He had finally come to realize that there was no escaping his fate, and as with many youths, he did not know fear of imprisonment until he was directly faced with it. They had obtained a lot from him during the seven hour interview that had only ended hours before, one of the best Auror's in the business instructing the interrogation. She was quite pleased with the progress.<p>

Now, other than Hermione and Draco's explanations, they had other witnesses to fight against this man. He would already return to prison even without any evidence, but she wanted to get him. This man had been able to sneak his way out of so many things thus far, and she was sick of watching. He got far too many things so far during his manhunt, and she did not intend to let him off easily. He would pay.

Despite all the evidence however, they had outliers. She still had to figure out just what had happened to Annabelle Day; there was the obvious Imperio curse, but was there more that she was missing? Had the woman been tortured? Most of the evidence had been destroyed on her due to strong, powerful spells, and that was a problem. They couldn't read if she had been raped, abused, anything. Her memory had practically been swiped clean, leaving nothing for them to pick through. That was why she was being removed- hopefully to a location that could help her- but it was bad for the case. Tonks didn't want her to go without justice; he hurt her just like everyone else he crossed paths with.

And then there was Carrow. Stubborn, headstrong, he had rightly refused to say anything on the matter. They were currently working to acquire another truth potion, and she could not wait to use it on him. The newest dose would be ready by tomorrow morning, and hopefully he could shed some insight on everything.

That was a hope however, and those could be easily dashed. She had received the letter from her cousin earlier, but it lacked detail which was dire for her to hold this woman longer in custody of the Ministry. She needed reasons, and the blond had given her none. What was he playing at?

Three people whose stories were interwoven among Lestrange's, just like Hermione's and Draco's had become. She wondered how many other people he had crossed, killed and changed forever on this mad trek for revenge after his escape- and over two muggles? This would be a major case for the lawyers assigned; just how would they prove everything in court and sort everything out, righting all the wrong? She had no idea.

"Tonks," someone said, and she glanced up from her desk to catch sight of Anderson, another Auror who was working with her on everything, "We have something."

She frowned, rising from her seat. "What do you mean," she asked, pocketing her wand. He was already moving and she hurried to follow.

"I mean that Theodore Nott apparently has more to share with us- this time about Miss Day."

Tonks blinked, surprised; he was withholding more? Perhaps she was wrong, and all the answers lay between these five main people.

Or did they?

* * *

><p>Hermione sat quietly. Draco had finally come to find her, and he had told her everything his father had told him. They had talked, and now she didn't know what to say. It was too horrible.<p>

"They… they killed them? The Evans?"

He nodded tightly. "I believe so. I believe my father convinced my mother to go through it for him."

She gulped. That was horrible. He had twisted the mind of his wife enough to convince her to do unspeakable things like that? It was horrible! Didn't he love her at all? But she hardly had time to think about that, for she could see the trouble laced within his eyes. "Are you alright?"

Draco looked down. "Fine."

_Well there's a lie. _She reached over and pat his hand. "You don't have to pretend to be strong right now; I understand that it's hard. This, this is something I could never have foreseen."

He was shaking his head. "Neither did I. I'm not even sure how I will explain this to my cousin. You don't want to admit that your parents are bad people on the inside, you know? You come home to find a safe sanctuary, but sometimes it seems that the walls that have been your whole life are just… made to break you in the end. It's like you are born into your own prison."

"Not for everyone," she breathed, but already her mind was moving away from the conversation. _You come home to find a safe sanctuary._ That got her thinking and she stood quickly, missing everything her companion was saying but catching his attention.

"What are you doing," he asked, his eyebrows drawing together, but she had turned away and was suddenly rushing out of the library. He was quick to follow. "Granger! Hermione, would you stop running?"

He found her in his room, he wand sticking just slightly out of her pocket, floo powder in hand. She was watching him intently. "I have an idea."

"Yes well, I gathered that after you took off running. Is this about the Ministry? We can go there, but you don't have to rush off like a mad woman." He turned and shut his door, grabbing his cloak that he had carelessly tossed onto the nearby desk. "We can go if you desire, but-"

"It's not the Ministry," she breathed, looking him in the eyes. "I had an idea; I finally realized what has been bugging me the last few days."

"Yes well, what is that," he asked, pulling on his cloak. He noted that she had yet to grab hers, and thought he should probably mention it as he walked to her side.

She grasped his hand with her other eagerly, pulling him towards the fireplace without going to grab something for warmth. "What you were saying back at the library, it got my brain working. I know where he went!"

"Who, Rodolphus?" He looked appalled, pulling his hand away. "Well go floo the Ministry or something, we aren't going anywhere! What exactly are you thinking?"

But she was quick to latch back onto his wrist, using her weight to pull him back near the floo. "I'm thinking we should investigate my idea before sending the Ministry on a mad run. I think I know what has happened Malfoy, and the authorities are not the first answer," she said, dropping the powder in, shouting out the name of a street that was lost to his ears through the roar of the fire.

"What," he screamed, but she couldn't hear his, and they were flying quickly through the vortex of fireplaces, his mind spinning as he tried to decide what kind of mess she was getting them into now.

They landed, and the first thing he registered was that it was biting cold. They were in a rundown fireplace, and he realized muggle streetlights littered the street. Great, they were back in a place he still didn't understand.

And it didn't seem that they were going to leave anytime soon. Granger, despite the little she wore, took off running, the snow falling over her as she ran. He stumbled to his feet, following a bit behind. "Granger, are you mad? Get us out of here right now! I have a feeling you're going to get us killed!"


	33. That You're Gone

**Important A/n: **Alright guys, there are 2-3 chapters remaining, depending on what I do with the final chapter. Please keep reviewing! We are quite near the end now :) And this chapter was quite fun to write!

Check out my stories "His and Her Bruises" (T) and "Forget Me Naught" (M).

Check out my facebook! The link is at the top of my profile! Thanks to my beta, **JDeppIsMyLovely**, and enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>That You're Gone<strong>

Draco rushed to keep up with the Gryffindor in front of him as they dashed down slippery muggle streets. How in Merlin's name was she tolerating the cold? His teeth were chattering, and he had the protection of a cloak, while she ran in only a shirt. The girl would be lucky to get out of this little trip without frostbite.

He was highly confused; what did she think she was accomplishing by bringing them here to this place? He couldn't figure out any motive for this location in specific. The Ministry had come to mind when she began bolting around, but only because he knew she longed to speak with Annabelle Day. But here, she would not find the girl.

The blond caught up to her quickly enough, reaching out to grab her as they ran, and due to the distraction she slipped on the ice, taking them both down. He landed on top of her, and could hear her groan in protest.

"What are you doing," she gasped from beneath him, the air having been knocked out of her by his weight. He quickly got off of her and helped her stand. "What are you doing," she repeated.

He blinked at her in the cold, able to feel how frigid her skin had become. "What am I doing? Merlin Granger, you're running around in winter looking to catch the flu! I'm Apparating us back to my Manor at once," he hissed, clamping her against his side.

She wiggled in his grip, fighting weakly only because of how frigid she felt. "No! Draco, I have something to finish out here; I know what I am doing, and why we are here."

"Then enlighten me," he said, digging for his wand.

"You can't Apparate us in the middle of a street," she pointed out, teeth chattering as he turned to glare at her. "Just trust me; it's important that we get where I wanted to go."

"Why," he asked suspiciously, not letting her go.

She shook her head, teeth chattering, and he relented and let go. "Fine, but only if- would you stop with the running!?" The girl was already off again before he could even demand she take his cloak. Sighing, he followed.

It didn't take long to reach what she was looking for. They came to a home with a strange "For Sale" sign in the front that looked terribly tacky to Draco, and she proceeded straight to the front door, pulling her wand out in shaking hands; he had suspected her to pass out from the bitter cold eating at her body by now. The girl was cunning but in her rush to get here she had neglected even using a simple heating charm. He tapped her shoulder with his wand from behind, listening to her sigh as heat overtook her.

"Thank you," she said, even as he draped the heavy cloak over her as well.

"Don't thank me yet; we still have to deal with whatever this is." She nodded in agreement, and the door clicked open as she unlocked it. Pushing it open further with her wand, she stepped inside the dark space, Draco very close behind her, practically on top of her.

The space was dark, but she didn't dare light the tip of her wand, and hoped Draco would take the hint and do the same. She didn't want to alert him they had arrived any more than she had to. Besides, this place was up for sale, and because of the events that took place, no furniture would remain. She was certain of that.

She only hoped Draco wouldn't jump to conclusions and attack before they could even really talk.

At the end of the hallway, she spotted light. Draco was gripping her shoulder now, a silent protest in her going first, but she was having none of it. This was her idea, her plan, and she would handle it as she saw fit. He still didn't even know where they were. Tiptoeing silently, they made their way to the last room where light emitted from. In the dim glow that reached them she turned and urgently pressed a finger to her lips. He only rolled his eyes.

Slowly, she stepped around the corner into the room, wand aimed the entire time. Immediately, she saw him. He sat against the farthest wall, hands shaking, the small fire blazing, magic keeping it from engulfing the entire building. His eyes slid up slowly, meeting her own, noting the blond man in her wake.

"I knew you would find me," he said, focusing in on her. She might have come to him, might have come with the additional help and the sole purpose of getting this over with, but he still held a few cards. He still held the answers she wanted, the thing she still had to be lacking. Without his input, they would never understand why he went through with everything he did. And he knew, above all else, she wanted to know _why_. "I knew you would come searching for me Mudblood, and now here you are, stuck in the muggle world with me once again." He licked his lips, and both students noted the dried blood there. Why in Merlin's name had he done that?

Hermione was shaking her head quickly, afraid the nerves would kick in again. She could never let him get to her, or everything would go very, very bad, and all three of them knew it. "I'm not alone this time," she said, reminded of the warm blond body behind her. "It's not just me."

"No, I see. You brought my nephew along, didn't you?" He rose, both wands trained on his body, eyes slowly sliding over to Draco's. "I am surprised to see you siding with her Draco; you are so much better than that."

He shrugged. "I always thought you had more tact than you have displayed; cheating, and with a woman you made everyone believe you hated? You were contradicting who you really sided with in the war from the start. You shouldn't have done it in the first place; you should've seen how badly this could all blow up in your face Lestrange."

The man glared, fingers dancing over the tip of his wand. "Why do you side with her?"

"Because, she doesn't kill simply to kill- living through a war made me see the importance of that. And what you put her through, this horribly drawn out process is inhumane. You cannot torture any one person to these sorts of extremes; it shows how twisted you really are." He inclined his head behind Hermione, an action that she did not catch. "I wouldn't have respected you if you killed her either, if only because I'm having a hard time taking in death these days, no matter who it is." Hermione thought that statement was odd, considering how calmly he reacted when they found Welsh dead in his apartment, and the bloody Annabelle hanging around. He had been very collected, very sure of how he would deal with things.

The man was shaking his head, his hand firmly clasped around the tip of his wand now, though it still remained in his pocket. "You're weak, just as I expected you to always be. You side with her!? Are you mad? Her kind will only ever drag the magical community down." He let a sneer slowly spread over his lips. "Don't think I am a fool though Malfoy. I have been around a few times, I had my spies. I know how you look at her."

She felt him stiffen behind her, but said nothing, just continued to let these two men throw words back and forth. "You know nothing," he snapped.

"But I do. Incendio!" The spell was quick and timed, catching the students off guard; they didn't think he would move so quickly, and hand underestimated him. Draco nudged her a bit, and the fire attacked his arm when she was pushed out of the way, burning flesh. He hissed, already beginning to put the flames out.

She quickly realized though that she couldn't just stand around and make sure he was alright. Whipping her head around, she caught sight of him. "Stupefy," she called, but he deflected it easily.

"Locomotor Mortis," he called, and she stumbled as her legs became useless. He was rushing towards her, but she couldn't let him get to close.

"Conjunctivitis," she cried as he lunged at her. He missed her, his eyes burning at the new spell. He stumbled around just inches in front of her, cursing.

"Incarcerous," someone said, and her head whipped around to spy her blond counterpart no longer aflame. It was obvious that he was burned, but he wasn't glowing amid flames anymore either. She tapped her legs, undoing the charm from Rodolphus. She stood, the blond at her side.

The man was still cursing. "Just wait until I am out!"

"That could be a bit," Draco commented, crossing his arms. The man seemed pretty stuck in his current situation. He only received a glare.

Hermione watched the man on the floor closely, surprised. She glanced at Draco, who was still looking on at the mess before them with a bored expression. _That was far too easy. _

She grabbed his arm, pulling him away a bit He looked at her, frowning. "What?"

"That was too easy," she said quietly. "I have encountered him enough to know he doesn't get beaten by a few simple spells."

Draco rolled his eyes. "It doesn't seem like he is going anywhere. The man is bound."

"But you've said it yourself," she breathed, beginning to feel uneasy, "The methods he used to get that magic into me wasn't traditional, the way I caught cancer wasn't traditional, nothing about this experience since day one has been traditional. He could have another secret up his sleeve."

The blond narrowed his eyes, both teens so caught up in _deciding _if they were safe, that neither bothered to check on the man just a few feet away.

"Sectumsempa," he cried, dragging both teens from the isolated world they had believed they were in. Lost in trying to figure out if they were going to be alright, they hadn't checked the man in question. The spell hit its intended target, sending her to the floor. Draco had his wand out and deflected the next spell sent towards him. He stepped in front of Hermione, unwilling to move as the man leered.

"You should've listened to her," he joked, a smile painting his lips at her sharp breaths. He bit his lip, waiting to see if this man would say more. He wasn't going to play fair, or with clean spells, and that would put Draco at a disadvantage, for he would use those old, dark spells if it was required of him, although he wasn't excited about the idea of doing it. "She is smart."

"Yes," Draco agreed, his mind flipping around. Perhaps if he got this madman to talk he could use a simple spell and knock him out again. "She is. So smart in fact, that she was able to escape from you and avoid you, for months."

The man's painted smile vanished. "Shut up boy."

Instead, Draco only shrugged at his uncle's anger. "I just find it curious. You ripped her apart, took away everything, and somehow she came out the stronger person."

He was glaring now. "What makes you say that?"

Draco smirked, glad to know he could at least get under this man's skin. He hoped that while he distracted him, Hermione would heal herself of those gashes. "The Evans were taken away from you, by people I am sure you now know the true identity of. You not only took her parents away, but you tortured her beyond measure, and she still got away, and now she's finding a way to repay you for all of your trouble."

The man leered. "It was no trouble at all; I would rather torture her kind than let her think she really belongs."

"It's funny that you say that Lestrange," the blond said, twirling his wand in his fingers now, though it remained pointed at the enemy, "For you had a child with a muggle, didn't you? If I recall, my mother was telling me that Martha and Andrew Evans are related to Lily Evans… who I believe is Potter's mother?" He raised an eyebrow. "You may think she is bad, but you are contradicting your beliefs by wanting to care for a child of muggle descents, making your spawn a Half-Blood."

The man laughed at this. "You think I wanted to _care _for her?"

Draco narrowed his eyes, testing the waters now. Rodolphus was slowly losing his focus; the more he spoke, the more distracted he became. Draco hoped he could distract him enough to take him down and get some Auror's here, so he could take Hermione out of that place entirely. Even back at the door he could tell that she wasn't comfortable here, and now that she had been hexed he worried about how much blood she was losing, or had lost. She hasn't stood back up after all. "Then what did you want from her?"

Rodolphus was shaking his head that twisted look back on his features. "Why would I want to care for her Malfoy? She was a muggle! The only thing she ever did was have my child; a feat dear Bella never wanted to partake in. She _hated _children- look at what she thought of you! She would never want a child, but she knew I wanted one, that I would go to any lengths to have one." He sneered. "She was away when I found Martha the first time; our encounter did not begin pleasantly, but she learned to enjoy it quite a bit. When she became pregnant I had to leave, else face her finding out things about me. I intended to come back and retrieve both of them again, and perhaps use her if needed, but the child was always my goal. I wanted my bloody son Andrew to understand what was expected of him, Half-Blood or not. Whatever would make you think I truly cared for those people?"

The blond was quiet. He didn't expect the man to deny everything so quickly like he had. Apparently, assuming the wrong thing with him, or perhaps the _right_ thing, set him off. "Because you went to such extremes when you believed Hermione was the murderer," he replied, nodding to the floor. She still hadn't gotten up yet, and he hoped for a hole soon so he could strike the wizard down and make sure she wasn't too injured. But for now, chancing a look could be the end of them both.

He sneered "But it turned out to not be her, didn't it!? I killed those bloody muggles for nothing! I could have saved myself so much energy, so much time, just slaughtering the girl for the fun of it and going after the real culprits the real reason I have had to deal with so many things; you're fucking parents."

The blond tensed. He knew his father had spoken with this man about what supposedly really went on, but he had been hoping to avoid the topic. A hand brushed his leg and he inwardly sighed a bit, realizing that Granger was at least responsive.

"I never knew they did anything like that. I spent a lot of my summer away with Blaise and Pansy, while they attempted to heal the wounds between them. I never knew they did something like this." _I know they did it, but how exactly? _

The man scoffed. "Don't cover yourself you bastard, it does us no good!" He was throwing his arms around wildly. "You had to have known something, you were in that house!"

"Rarely," Draco replied, inclining an eyebrow. A moment later, weight pulled on his arm as Hermione stood up again. He felt her leaning against his back, and he could practically feel the blood coating her front. The wounds had to have been closed or the feeling would have been far more predominate- he would know. But he also knew that she was going to feel light headed, and that could be dangerous. "You caused so many problems for someone who was not even involved," he continued, shaking his head. "That will get you more charges."

"If they find me," he chuckled. "I have avoided them thus far."

"But the more people you kill, the longer the trail you leave," he reasoned, nodding towards the wand Lestrange had been fingering for some time. "Your wand was snapped, so you have been stealing others. Even if those wizards are not dead, there are tracking charms. You will be found."

He chuckled. "I have been able to manipulate people into helping me before Draco, and I am able to do it again." His eyes shifted to the girl leaning against his nephews back. Healing herself had not gone completely as planned, or so it seemed. "I can do anything I want; I can control, harm torture. Look at her! I had her bleeding from that pretty little word the other night."

The blond's lip twitched. "Oh I know Lestrange; I was there."

His uncle gave him a startled expression. "You sleep with that filth!"

He shrugged. "It really is none of your business; I can sleep with whomever I want." Hermione was squeezing his sides, and he knew she did not like this conversation, but couldn't help himself. His uncle thought he had all the cards, but Draco could disturb him as well. "I must say though, interesting choice of words. It is not what I would expect someone like you to carve."

The malice smile was back. "You like that," Rodolphus asked, grinning. "I personally thought it fit nicely."

"And why that word in specific," he asked, feeling her tense against his back. Why wouldn't she come stand at his side?

He laughed again. "Why? Oh, my dear boy, I thought it was obvious! That bitch failed to protect her parents." He shifted his gaze, locking on the big brown eyes he could see poking over his nephew's shoulder. "It was only fitting to leave something on her to help her remember the occasion."

"I would've remembered without it," Hermione remarked bitterly from behind Draco. The wizard grinned at her.

"I'm sure you would have darling," he replied, licking dry red lips again, "But I wanted something you would always remember me for." She did not give him a reply, just drug her fingers into Draco's back, the cloak lost someplace on the floor.

It didn't seem that the silence was going to deter his voice, and Draco was willing to wait a few more minutes if only to figure out some answers. That was the sole reason this man was not on the ground quivering. "I was always watching you, waiting for you to break. I had letters sent out owls and letters and messages and the lot, and I was always updated on the two of you." Draco recalled a single time, months ago, when Blaise had come to him reporting that _Welsh _was owling someone in the corridors late at night. So this had been who he was speaking with? It made sense now. And as he had figured out weeks before, this had to be why the man had so openly abused her. He wanted her to look bad, to be afraid, and to place the blame on someone else. That would work of course, had his uncle also not ordered the murder of Welsh. It was another obvious clue, but Draco now realized why it was such a contradicting factor; a contradicting man was running this game.

He had always been watching them, observing them, even when she believed she was safe. His earlier comment now seemed ridiculous; she really hadn't gotten away from him at all. If he escaped tonight, Draco wondered if the same set of events would repeat themselves.

"You always had a way of following," Draco said, the emotions in his voice being masked. "You always had a way of watching her; you put so much time into her, when in actuality you were never even following the correct person. You wasted so much time and energy on this hunt that is going to prove useless."

The smile disappeared. "Yes, I did. But now I have a new set of targets."

"You will not be targeting my parents," the blond snapped, dashing that idea entirely. He might be unsure how to deal with them for now, but they were his parents and he wouldn't let this insane man harm either of them. "Your game is over; you should be able to see this."

"You never know Malfoy; I am a very unpredictable man. Crucio," he snapped, whipping his wand out and bringing the blond to his knees. Hermione let go, pulling her own wand out again. She was lightheaded, no longer bleeding but without quite a bit of blood in her body now. She heard Draco scream, and stumbled back against the wall.

"This is the only way you know how to win, isn't it? Through pain?"

Rodolphus maintained his hold on the blond, shifting his eyes up to the girl. "Perhaps it is, but you'll find out soon. I cannot let the two of you leave this place now that you have everything figured out, can I?"

She shook her head slowly, gripping her wand. He was leaving himself _open, _distracted by the shaking blond before him. She had the perfect opportunity. "Stupefy! Sectumsempra!" She used the same spell he had on her, hoping it would keep him down for a bit. His eyes grew large as he hit the floor, gashes appearing.

She fell beside the blond. "Draco? Draco- are you alright." She was brushing back sweaty fringe, looking down at his heaving form.

"Peachy," he snapped, and she rolled her eyes. He was fine. Reaching up to rub the space between his eyes with his uninjured arm, he looked up at her, taking in the blood. "I should ask you the same thing," he snapped, sitting up to inspect her. It hurt, but he ignored it. She however shoved his hands gently away.

"I'm fine- lightheaded but fine." He nodded, accepting her answer, and dragged himself to his feet. Once there, he helped her up, his body protesting the entire time. As she regained her balance, she glanced over at the bleeding form of Rodolphus. "What are we going to do with him?"

He cocked an eyebrow, looking at her. "You brought us here and didn't have a plan?"

She shrugged. "I didn't expect it to quite go this way. I thought he might be more hurt, being forced to remember how he felt when they were killed and such. I guess I thought wrong."

Draco nodded. "He doesn't have any compassion at all Granger." Hugging her with one arm, he kissed the top of her head. She might be missing a bit of blood, but the girl was safe. "Go send a Patronus to Tonks and get her down here. We're going to need to get someone here before he bleeds to death."

She looked up at him. "Draco," she said, tilting her head and completely ignoring his statement. His eyebrows shot up.

"Granger," he responded, uncertain why she suddenly seemed so calm and nice.

The girl didn't say anything, just stood on her tip toes, pressing her lips softly to his. The kiss lasted only a few moments, and she didn't apply a lot of pressure, but the look on Malfoy's face was priceless; he looked both pleased and confused.

"Thank you for being on my side," she breathed, stepping away from him. But he appeared he was not done. Grabbing the back of her head, he brought her back to him, kissing her deeper this time. She blinked for a moment, surprised at his bold action that overtook her own, but leaned in and accepted the attack on her lips; she couldn't deny that he was a great kisser, and that she truly enjoyed this moment.

But it couldn't last long. She pulled away, looking up at him for a moment. This wasn't the time nor place to end up making out, for there was still a man bleeding behind them. But the blond's expression remained unreadable on his face, and she quickly looked down, unsure what to think about that gaze returning just after their kiss.

Grabbing the discarded cloak, she hurried to the living room to send her Patronus, out of the blond's rough gaze; she couldn't stand there wondering what was passing through his mind, not quite yet. She had certainly given him something to think about again, but he had given her more. Now she would be plagued with that moment until they did have the time to talk.

She was certain it would be a long talk this time.

And Draco remained behind, his long fingers tracing his lips, oblivious to the pained man behind him, for he could not care less about him. They had shared quite a few kisses, all of the being chaste save the one he just forced on her the one she had accepted willingly. He just had to smirk at that; his _you're welcome_ response had been far more enjoyable.

_Fuck it; if she enjoys sweet, I can always be sweet with her._

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you are alright," Ginny asked, for what had to be the sixth time. She was just like her mother.<p>

"I'm fine," Hermione replied, slowly looking around at her friends. After returning to the Ministry with Lestrange, Tonks had ordered the two students to go off to St. Mungo's and get fixed up. The process hadn't taken long, and she was even done before Draco. But that didn't really matter, since Aurors had to speak with him the moment he was released.

It was during the solitude of waiting that she called her friends, alerting them that Lestrange had been captured. That started a flourish of questions, and she had just told them to come see her, so she could explain what had happened since the last time they saw one another- minus the kisses she shared with Malfoy of course. After she finished her tale, they had all become extremely fascinated with how well the Healer's had done their job. At the very least, she was happy they cared.

"So what is going to happen with Lestrange?" Harry asked, sliding his glasses up his nose. "Are they going to try him, give him The Kiss?"

Hermione bit her lip, looking away, and it caught everyone's attention. "I'm not sure yet," she said, looking away. "New evidence turned up, and now they have to tyr more people."

"What do you mean," Ron asked, being the third and last guest of her visiting party. "Who else was involved?"

She bit her lip. "Many people."

"Like whom' Ginny asked, crouching next to the girls chair. "You can tell us Hermione; I am interested in knowing."

_I'm sure you're interested. _But she didn't respond at first, knowing that her words wouldn't go over well. When she did finally speak, she stared at her shoes.

"Draco's parents."

* * *

><p>Hermione rested her head back against the pillows of her bed. If talking to her friends about Draco when they hated him was annoying, this had been impossible. Really, she was staying in his Manor, one would think that his first name sliding off her tongue was not the worst thing that could happen. But explaining that to Harry and Ron had been a feat in itself. She had been surprised when Ginny sided with her though. When asked, she only had one thing to say:<p>

"_Something had changed in you Hermione. Look what you just came out of, what you told us, and yet you seem to be radiating energy. You almost smile sometimes when you mention his name. I may not know what exactly is going on between you two, or why you can stand the git, but he seems to have done something good for you." She reached over; touching Hermione's hair, for the two boys had been shooed away so they could speak privately. "Somehow, he has helped you get through all of this, when you wanted everyone to be oblivious. Perhaps telling Malfoy first was the best choice you ever made."_

Obviously this was not the first time that these things had been flipped through in Ginny's head. It made sense to Hermione, since the redhead was forever a romantic, but she didn't understand why she had to look so closely at everything. The girl may as well understand her relationship with Draco better than she did!

Which was possible. She still wasn't entirely sure what was going on between them. Malfoy was great right? He had been kind to her, he had watched her, and he even seemed concerned for her. And when he kissed her, it sent all the nerves in her body into overdrive, something that had never happened before. Why were his kisses so intoxicating?

_Because you love when he kisses you? You love sleeping near him, knowing you're not alone. _Rolling her eyes, she flipped over so that her face rested against the pillows instead, and sighed. Yes, that was probably it. So what if she had come to terms with liking Draco? It wasn't like this would be the best time to go about trying to start something; there would be a trial soon concerning both of their families, where one side were the victims and the other the killers. However could they have a relationship- or even a friendship through that?

_I suppose you wouldn't._

* * *

><p>Draco twirled the note in his fingers, the one that he knew Hermione had seen as well.<p>

_Draco and Hermione~_

_I would like to inform you of an upcoming trial that both of you are required to attend. I am sure this will be uncomfortable for you and in truth probably quite awkward, but your attendance is mandatory. Because of the importance of this trial, and the strange accumulation of the people we are dealing with, the court case involving Rodolphus Lestrange over the murders of Frank and Jean Granger will be held in just a few days' time, on the thirty-first of December. As it is, another case must be brought into the light on the same day to tie many issues together. A new hearing, involving the murders of Martha and Andrew Evans will be held against Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy on the thirtieth. Draco, you are not required to come to this one, for the same sort of evidence will be evaluated on the thirty-first, a case your parents will be present at as well. Clear your schedules, for missing this will cause severe issues for either of you. It's highly important, and you are the children of both sides._

_You will come to my office first and I will take you down to where this case is being held. I am sorry we always meet under suck unpleasant circumstances._

_~Nymphadora Tonks_

She had read the letter back at St. Mungo's as they were leaving. He could only imagine what she was trying to think about in order to block out the unpleasant thoughts of what was coming. They had to deal with this, when everything should be clearing up. He didn't even want to consider what the press would do when they heard about this. The idea of anything calming down was now just a hope, and he knew that it could quite possibly fracture the friendship he had developed with Hermione Granger over the last three months.

The friendship he had hoped to turn into a relationship.

They were going to have to face the facts, every cold fact that had ever come into play, and listen to the verdict of what had gone on and who would receive what. His parents were being tried for participating in what led to the murder of Hermione's own. That was going to be a conflict of interest, and he was not sure if they would remain close once she had to accept that fact.

He hoped they would, but it would all come out in a few days' time. It was the twenty-sixth of December. They had five days before they attended a trial that could change everything that had been built up between them.

* * *

><p>"Why did we do it," she asked slowly, petting her husband's hand. He wasn't angry- couldn't be, for he was too drugged up on potions- but she knew he was tense. She sat close at his side in the chair, her hair coming out of its once neat up do. "Why did we go through with it?"<p>

"Don't start doubting what we have already done Narcissa," Lucius scolded, turning to glare at his wife. She only turned her eyes down to stare at the floor. He had been confined for so long, she had forgotten how demanding he could be when his son was not within the vicinity. "It was for the best; it _had _to be done. It would've been a scar on the family forever if anyone ever found out."

"But won't they find out now," she asked, looking back up at his dark gaze once more. "When we explain ourselves, won't they realize the truth?"

"You will explain nothing," he scolded, flipping their hands around so he could grab hers tightly. "I will explain everything. You will do nothing but nod at my explanations."

The woman looked unsure at this. Lucius might be her husband, and she might be willing to follow most anything he told her, but this was a court date that would determine how long they spent in Azkaban. She knew there would be no denying the truth, for the man had told their son earlier that day about why he had ordered her to kill. The details weren't clear to Draco yet she was sure, but they would be once everything was brought into the light, and that scared her.

It was his plan, his vision and his desire, to kill those two people. She had been against the idea, but he had persuaded her into agreeing to go along with it. And now look where they were; waiting to be judged. She only had a few scarce minutes left with him before they took her to a holding cell, and she knew the only reason they allowed this was because Lucius was claimed "mentally insane". How could she nod in agreement to his answers when many people probably wouldn't even believe him? She was worried.

"Lucius," she said slowly, reaching out soft fingers to touch his cheek. Immediately, she knew this was the wrong thing to do. His eyes darkened and his arm snapped up, his hand connecting with her cheek. She gasped at the contact, falling from her chair and slicing her cheek on the bottom of the bed.

"You don't believe in my ability to handle this, do you Narcissa?" He was looking at the wall in front of him, not at his fallen wife.

She stood quickly, whipping the blood from her cheek. She didn't have a wand anymore, not after rumor got around of the possible murders. She would have to walk out of there with the cut on her skin. Applying pressure to the wound, she looked down at her husband, a man who had once held her with a gentle hand, who had once done everything he could to protect her in the face of danger. It had been that man she wanted to imagine at her side when she hosted the Ball, when she lived alone through the summer after she went through with the plan; the man who had captured her heart as children, not the monster who had crushed her confidence and individuality. She had followed his ideas back before his imprisonment, when he thought that Rodolphus was disloyal. And in prison, coded messages had told her what to do. She followed along like a dog does its owner, not a wife that follows her husband.

Still, that commanding link was not broken, and her fantasies at the Ball were dashed again. Lucius was not the same person he had once been. "I believe in you," she breathed, taking a step back from him. The words came out, but she didn't believe in them. She had watched his careful planning crumble, and the moment Hermione Granger came to her home, she knew it was over. There was no way for them to outrun their sins now, especially not with the innocent, blamed girl residing so close. It was only a matter of time.

But it seemed that time was almost up, and everything was ready to come down.

"Good," the blond man said, nodding once. "You should probably get going then; the Aurors are already unhappy with us. We should not keep them waiting any longer than we already have.'

She nodded, but waited a moment longer. He did not extend his hand to her and offer her those chaste, loveless kisses like he had been doing recently. Instead, he rolled on his side, shutting her out entirely, and she understood that was all the farewell she would receive. Turning, she stumbled out of the room; they weren't a couple anymore, they were only ghosts that mirrored the eccentric husband and wife from years before. A couple that had once truly loved each other.

Where had that gone?

* * *

><p>It was in the door that adjoined their rooms that the pair saw one another again. Apparently both parties had the same idea, Hermione just seconds ahead of Draco, and the door opened up to reveal both teens about to pass through the threshold that separated their rooms.<p>

He almost smirked at the way her eyes widened a bit. Had the kiss really off-set her that badly? They were both quiet for a moment, before noise interrupted the perfect silence.

"I came-"

"Oh, Draco-"

Silence enveloped the space again. Both looked away, but neither blushed. "Would you care to come in Granger," Draco asked, rubbing the back of his head a bit. Something felt different between them suddenly.

She nodded, smiling softly. "That would be nice."

They found themselves sitting on the bed in the room instead of the chairs that were so close- neither commented on that, for neither cared. It seemed that they were more comfortable in the silence than the topic they both had on their minds.

But it irritated Draco. It bothered him that they couldn't talk freely. They had gone through a lot since October, and yet simple things like kisses seemed to stop them in their tracks, like they were back to square one again; hating each other. So how were they ever to decide what to do, when they just kept walking in the same continual circle?

So he finally decided, it was time to stop wasting time. Leaning over, he kissed her, not caring that she inhaled sharply, or that she didn't respond at first. Eventually, she relaxed, grasping the back of his head with timid fingers.

When he pulled back, he did not move away. "You act unsure with me."

"I am unsure," she breathed, holding his gaze. "It's us- you and I- and we have hated each other for years. It's odd, to consider that you actually know how to be tender."

He rolled his eyes, pulling back so he could relax into the covers on his bed. "It's only odd, because you won't give yourself up. You're overanalyzing everything Granger; let lose, enjoy the kisses, and see where this takes us."

She bit her lip, staring at him as he stared back. She shifted so she faced him more directly, brushing her hair from her face. "Draco, this is bad. We are about to stand on opposite sides in court-"

"You think I'm on my parent's side," he asked, sitting up again so he was above her- just a bit. "You're afraid that our clashing perspectives on how the case should turn out will crumble the relationship before it can even start?"

She shrugged. "I assumed you would be on your parent's side; they are your blood, after all."

"Hermione," he sighed, brushing her cheek. He let his hand rest there after a moment, cupping the skin and she let herself relax into his touch. "I know what they did was wrong. I don't understand the complexity of it all, and perhaps I don't want to, but it happened, and there is nothing I can do now to change it. But if I side with my parents I will be a fool. I don't agree with what they did, nor what it let to, and I won't support something I don't believe in." He sighed, dropping his hand. "I had the same worries; I don't know what to think about. If I put too much thought into what might happen though, I am going to psyche myself out; I figured that out earlier. We have to stop worrying about what is going to happen, what everyone is going to think, what we will think. We have to try it; it'll never happen at all otherwise."

She nodded slowly. "And what if this doesn't work out? People are going to talk, wonder if it's for show because of what has happened. They are going to degrade us you know for wanting to date the other."

He gripped her chin, pulling her close. "They have been judging us since you caught cancer, and we were locked away in that dorm. It's been going on for months Hermione, we just have to embrace it, and else it will ruin any chance of a relationship." He kissed her softly, wishing it would ease her worries a bit. "It's your choice; you have more concerns than I do. Do we try this, or should I just walk you back to your room and say goodnight? We don't have to do anything, I just need an answer." _Desperately._

She didn't respond, just bowed her head- breaking his hold- and grabbed his other hand. She brought it to her lips, kissing it softly, before she looked back up and leaned over, pressing her lips to his again. It only lasted a moment before she pulled away, smiling softly.

"Like you said Malfoy; it's now or never."


	34. But Though You're Still with Me

**A/n: **One chapter left. I liked this chapter; it slowly closes the gaps between things, as ending chapters should. Hopefully this chapter clears any questions up about the mystery as well.

Check out my facebook! The link is at the top of my profile! Thanks to my beta, **JDeppIsMyLovely**, and enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>But Though You're Still With Me<strong>

Hermione sat quietly outside of Tonk's office. Draco had left her directly after the trial, saying he needed to be alone. They had all known how it was going to go down, who was probably going to Azkaban, but there had been additional sentences that had not been expected.

She could still hear the judges voice ringing in her head:

"_Rodolphus Lestrange; for breaking out of Azkaban Prison on a life sentence, the murder of two muggle's, abusing and/or tormenting one Hermione Granger, one Daniel Welsh and one Annabelle Day, and keeping Miss Granger captive in her own home, use of the Unforgiveable Curses, sixteen counts of murder since your escape from Azkaban, and breaking into countless homes, the court sentences you to the Kiss in Azkaban prison without the ability for a second hearing."_

"_Amycus Carrow; for aiding and abetting an escaped criminal, for breaking out of Azkaban Prison on a life sentence, tormenting one Annabelle Day and impersonating one Daniel Welsh, attempting to re-enslave one Pansy Parkinson- which is the reason for your first arrest- the court sentences you to life in prison without parole, no visitation rights" _

"_Theodore Nott; for aiding and abetting an escaped criminal and aiding in the murder of one Daniel Welsh and planning the death of one Hermione Granger, the court sentences you to five years in Azkaban Prison without parole, limited visitation rights."_

"_Annabelle Day; under influence of the Imperius curse and committing a murder that you were not in control of, the court reinstates your admission to St. Funke's institute for the mentally ill."_

"_Lucius Malfoy; for planning and following through with the murders of Martha Evans (muggle) and Andrew Evans (Half-Blood),along with your previous attempts at murder and murder itself, your current state of mind and your history with Azkaban Prison, the court sentences you to life in Azkaban without Parole. Your choices have sent you back to that place. Psychiatric help will be offered for only the first six months to ensure that nothing of this manner arises again from this family. Visitation rights are limited."_

"_Narcissa Malfoy; for following the orders of your husband to kill Martha Evans (muggle) and Andrew Evans (Half-Blood) and for withholding information as to what one Lucius Malfoy instructed you to do while he was safely locked away in the third floor of your home, the court sentences you to fifteen years imprisonment in Azkaban Prison, with parole. You will have limited visitation rights."_

It had all come out in the end. Under the pressure of a completely packed court room from wall to wall, incriminating questions and major facts against them, many of the accused had caved and admitted to their audience the important details missing from the equation. In the aftermath, Hermione finally understood how it had all played out;

Lucius had found out personally from Rodolphus Lestrange through letters in prison that he intended to go back for the muggle woman he had found during the war. Disbelieving, Lucius Malfoy had done nothing about it at first. But Lestrange seemed insistent on his, and eventually it began to worry the blond man. He sent a letter to his wife Narcissa, who he persuaded to go to the address he had obtained from Lestrange and observe the family. She had done so, and reported back to her husband.

From there the plan had begun to form, a secret kept hidden from Draco Malfoy who had been around while his father was absent from the Manor during the summer. Because they spoke only through letters, Draco had never thought to worry about plans like this. The couple had been able to construct a concrete plan to rid themselves of the offending pair before Lestrange could ever get to them.

Lucius came home, and then Narcissa went on a "trip". This trip was not what Draco had believed, and instead was the cold blooded kills of two innocent people; people that Hermione Granger would come in contact with the next morning. After planning to tutor the son Andrew, Hermione Granger arrived at the home the next morning to discover the slaughter left in Narcissa's wake. But the woman was already gone.

From there, the misunderstandings had begun. Confusing information from what had really happened with what he could see, the recently escaped prisoner found the dead and was enraged. He found Hermione Granger, killed her parents and set about to make her life a living hell because of what he had found.

Hermione escaped, getting picked up by Aurors and returned to the safety of Hogwarts early that year with her own burdens to bear. Rodolphus escaped capture by the Aurors and slipped out of their radar, killing his second wizard to obtain a new wand (the first was murdered briefly after escaping). He ran into Theodore Nott as he left, striking up a deal with the boy. After having killed the second wizard, Lestrange found a slip of paper within the person's robes. It indicated who the Head students would be that year, and that information could not be better for his situation. (The murder was overlooked from this case until it was brought into court because no one ever even saw the connection, and had only assumed it was another angry Death Eater out to seek revenge for Voldemort's death).

Theodore Nott was easily persuaded to help after learning that he could one-up Draco Malfoy, although he appeared to have not have thought the consequences through, for in court he shook like a leaf when he was questioned then accused. Theo was used as an inside source in order to obtain information the two Head's.

Shortly after this meeting Rodolphus crossed paths with another escapee, Carrow. They spoke, striking up another dangerous deal with the Unbreakable Vow. Rodolphus would get Granger, Carrow- Pansy Parkinson. This was where the court tied in the connection to many of the things Hermione could recall Theo saying to people all around, even people like Blaise. Thoedore Nott had tried to recruit Zabini to their side because the Italian was so close to the blond but had no luck. When he learned of the additional person, Carrow, he set about threatening Parkinson instead in order to hopefully sway Blaise over. Still nothing happened.

Carrow came in disguise to speak with Minerva McGonagall, saying that he would deeply enjoy learning to become a potions teacher. She was far more open to the idea than Severus Snape, and she was the one that assigned the man to be Snape's assistant, creating a second link for Lestrange to maneuver around to his advantage, and a second set of eyes in the school.

Hermione Granger left carved and sickly, developed cancer over several months that became something fatal to the magical world. When asked how she overcame this issue in court, she explained that Draco Malfoy had the cure (revealing something she was supposed to keep secret). When Lestrange learned from Carrow and Nott that she was getting better under the medical aid of "Welsh" and "Day" he became infuriated and decided to try to find a faster way to her. It did no good because the cures came from Draco Malfoy, and this led to his uncontrollable anger.

Rodolphus Lestrange, known for uncontrollable anger and disturbing tactics, decided to murder Daniel Welsh and stand in his place, actually allowing him access to the school. The death was not immediate, nor was it done directly through his own hands. The Healer himself was not killed until several days after Lestrange began realizing that the man's use was drawing to a close. Around this time he placed an Imperius curse over Nurse Annabelle Day, forcing her to kill the man she had worked beside for years, sending her into fits of trauma. Rodolphus anticipated that Hermione and Draco would arrive, presumably through her actions and not his, and instructed her to kill the girl if she arrived. It would be a far less satisfying end, but if it could be managed a large issue of his would have been removed. Of course, this plan proved futile, and when Theodore Nott found the duo in an alleyway nearby he attempted to stop their departure with no such luck, not securing the two for Lestrange to speak with.

Then began the threats, from Theo getting in her space to Blaise's providing them with little progress; when Malfoy took her with him for the holidays, it destroyed another opportunity to get at her. The Weasley household would have been just as difficult to breach, but Malfoy already knew something wasn't right. It would be harder to enter that forbidden place.

And of course, the family itself had personal hate towards the escapee. If he had only known the lines he was crossing by trying to kill her, when the real murderers were right in front of him.

Amycus Carrow helped Rodolphus steal an invitation from one of the Malfoy guests, indicating this Ball. It was the perfect cover for them to go in under; they assumed (correctly) that the girl would never attend something like that. It was here that Amycus planned to take his side of the deal and obtain Pansy Parkinson, who he had spied one day wandering around the grounds with her boyfriend Blaise. He only needed to get his hands on her, after he had helped Rodolphus sneak in, just as he had helped Theodore Nott avoid trouble when working for Lestrange, before Draco Malfoy ratted him out to Nymphadora Tonks, who promptly had the boy removed.

It was here that things began unraveling for the group. One-third of the constructed party was being held at the Ministry, and another was left to be captured by Aurors. Rodolphus left on his own, retreating as thoughts raced through his mind. It was believed that because of this abandonment, Carrow was more willing to speak on matters about the plan.

Hermione and Draco found the man just one day after his retreat, the girl having come to a conclusion about where he had to be; the Evans home. They found him, and spoke. It was not until the trial itself that Lestrange fully realized just who had taken the Evans from him.

For her part, the girl was surprised it took this long to piece things together. The blaring answers had been there all along, just everyone had found different things out. She only wished she had known it was Malfoy's parents from the start, for she would not have gone to that Manor and watched the family's last few scarce days together. Things were forever changed for them now, and she did not expect Draco to return for a while. He had given her access to the Floo so she could return to the Manor, but with Pansy and Blaise gone the place would be an empty reminder of so many terrifying events. So she sat there on the floor, replaying the events from back at the beginning of the summer up until now again and again.

_How did it all end up like this? One small misunderstanding led to this many killings? _

She rubbed her temples. There were reporters everywhere, fighting to get in and speak to the people who had testified, since the accused had been taken back down to cells. She would have to leave viva Floo, and was suddenly very thankful that the Manor had such secure wards; there wasn't even a Rodolphus Lestrange to breech them anymore. It would be safe from outsiders, and if it wasn't so eerie she could probably return there to get some sleep. But that hope was already gone. Once she returned she was sure she would be up until Draco came home as well.

He hadn't even looked at her.

Sighing, she looked at her nails. Was everything different now? Or could some things remain the same?

_There's only one way to find out._

* * *

><p>It was dark when the Floo roared to life announcing another presence. She had broken her promise to stay awake until the blond returned, having passed out from the sheer stress the trial had thrown onto her body. As Draco stepped out of his floo he noted that she was curled up asleep in his bed, her body hidden by multiple blankets. It made a soft smile crack across his worn face.<p>

The court case was supposed to take several days, not multiple hours. He had expected a drawn out trial, through which he would have time to speak with the girl, as well as his parents. But that thought was shattered when it was proven that nearly everything involving the case was already out in the open, and it only took a few questions to each defendant to make up the jury's minds. He believed they had already decided the fates of everyone before they even sat down.

He couldn't even begin to evaluate his feelings, for there were too many to try and figure out. He was tired, having spoken to Tonks away from her office when he could finally find her. He had only needed to ask a few questions before he couldn't take anymore and left.

Draco quickly stripped down to get into bed, not even caring that this time he had taken off more than he usually did when she shared his bed. He was just too worn to give it any thought, and sank happily beneath the warm covers. Without thinking about it, he reached out and dragged the Gryffindor's body closer to his own, seeking comfort from her. He needed it.

_Don't break down; there is time tomorrow to figure out what to do. Just sleep. _

He hid his head in the junction between her neck and shoulder. She smelled good; she must've taken a shower when coming back here. He breathed her in, reveling in how quickly she was able to calm hi quick heartbeat without doing anything.

_Lately I wonder how I could have hated you in my past. I was a right arse to you, wasn't I?_

The blond shoved his thoughts into the back of his mind, pulling her closer. He just wanted her comfort, her warmth, her strength to combine with his own so he could perhaps figure out what he was supposed to do from here. But all of that would have to wait, for now he could hardly keep his eyes open.

_In the morning… in the morning we will talk._

* * *

><p>She awoke in a tangle of arms. She had heard Draco come in last night, but had been too tired to really drag herself out of her calm sleep. There was no fear for the first time in months, not a trace, and she had reveled in that calm dreamland.<p>

He was another story. He seemed a bit disheveled as she turned over to stare at him, blond fringe hiding closed eyes. She had stayed in his room each night since they received the letter about the trial and began building up some sort of relationship; maybe it was for the comfort factor, or because she just liked to sleep beside him. But they had never been so close, so intimate before. It was a new feeling. _He must've really been looking for something to hold onto. _Easing out of his grip, she got out of the bed, stretching. It was only eight in the morning; she would let him sleep for a while, seeing as he had been out so late the previous night.

She may not have been stressed, but the girl felt uneasy. The room was tense, even if her own stress was gone. For her, the internal fight was over, but for Draco she knew it had only just begun. He was about to lose both of his parents to the hands of Azkaban, and he could do nothing to stop it. By helping her, he had doomed his own family. With that thought in mind, she felt her heart grow heavy. _If he never helped you at all, maybe his family would not be tearing at the seams, like mine did._

She cringed. It wasn't her fault, for she hadn't planned any of this, she had just been on the receiving end of many of the people's rage. Lucius Malfoy hated her for her blood, Narcissa Malfoy seemingly hated her because she was worried about her discovering the truth, and Lestrange hated her because he didn't know the truth. She hadn't even known herself, and only discovered the bit about Narcissa in court through her answers. She may have tried once to be pleasant, but it had all been a lie.

"You look worried." She spun around, noting that Malfoy was leaning lazily on an arm, now awake. It was obvious that he hadn't slept well, and the usually unreadable face was littered with worry lines, his eyes rimmed by dark circles. He looked overly tired, and she felt bad that she had woken him up.

"I'm sorry," she said, brushing her unruly hair back. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"I woke up on my own," he replied, shrugging. He continued to fix her with that same, almost confused look. "Why do you look worried? It's over now, they will be locked away. You should be jumping around the room."

She gave him a soft smile, shaking her head. "It's far from over. All those reporters that were around, they are going to print stories about what happened. They will want interviews, details, sob stories. Everyone is going to know what went on between our families, as well as ourselves. It's going to be in print Draco; everything that went on. The fight might be over, but we still have the aftermath to look forward to."

He huffed. "Sounds exhilarating,'" he snapped, falling back into the pillows. "I suppose I shouldn't expect anything different though. The media is always looking for a story, and what is better than this scandal?" He rolled his eyes. "I can only imagine the labels I will have now."

"What do you mean," she asked, frowning. She took a few steps, returning to the bed to sit on the edge. Her eyes flew over a toned chest, and it was then that she finally noticed the git wore only boxers. But really, it wasn't the time to mention it.

He glanced at her. "Do you know what kind of reputation I had- have- after the war? I was labeled, tagged, and shunned for my choices, thrown into a box of Pureblood outcasts for my summer/ I escaped Azkaban, I didn't kill Dumbledore, but none of that mattered. Didn't you notice at school Granger, how my circle of friends is quite a bit smaller? I might be rich, I might be gorgeous, but none of that holds a torch to the things I followed- like Voldemort." He huffed, sitting up only to throw the covers off and get out of bed. "I was trying to rebuild my life you know, be something better when I went back to that bloody school. I hate that place, hate the memories, but I need the education. I can only be thankful that my family owns its own business else I doubt I could find work. And now, I'll be back at square one all over again. My parents did something twisted, something truly evil, and people will remember that when it's the cover story of all those bloody papers. Now it'll be even harder to deal with things!"

She could feel his pain; he wanted acceptance above all else. She could relate, having been shunned by his kind in the beginning, but this was different. She very well knew his problems branched a whole lot further than just some worries about his social stance, but she figured this was his cover so he wouldn't be forced to look into other emotions. "It won't be harder," she said slowly, getting on her knees on the bed. He watched her with cautious eyes. "It won't be harder, I promise."

"You can't promise that," he sighed, rubbing his temples. "People will pity you for the most part, and your friends are some of the most respected people in Britain- in the world. You won't have any problems."

Hermione frowned at that. It wasn't going to be perfect after this, she would still have problems. "Of course I will," she said, placing her hands on her hips. "We will both have issues in the coming weeks, but it's nothing that can't be done overnight, and it doesn't have to be done alone." He raised an eyebrow at her, although her own gaze dropped. "This time I will be there too."

"You don't have to be. My problems will weigh me down again, and I don't expect you to come and spiral into the ground with me."

She tilted her head to the side. "Malfoy, stop that." His eyes narrowed as she used his last name. "Stop being so gloomy about what will happen to you. Your parents go to Azkaban in a few days, so you should go and see them once more. We can't predict what will happen, but declaring it will be horrible and impossible is only going to set you up to fail in the limelight. You're not alone; I'm with you this time, like you have been with me throughout this ordeal, even when they told us we had to go to court, and you should've been on your parents side-"

"How could I have been on their side," he snapped turning away. "How could I have ever been on their side when it was all just so… wrong?"

She sighed then, but it was not due to the feeling of defeat. "See," she said, smiling softly. "It isn't going to be so bad this time around."

"And how is that?"

"Because of what you just said; you proved that your viewpoints have changed. Despite everything, you have been able to reverse your mindset. You've been humbled, and people will see that in the coming days."

He glanced over his shoulder. "I am not so sure about that."

But she was. Getting off the bed, she walked around to his front, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head there on his naked chest. It was a moment before he returned the gesture, leaning his head down into the junction between her neck and shoulder. "I am Draco, and I'm going to be with you through this." He nodded, holding her tighter, and he recalled just last night when he had pulled her so close for the same reason; strength.

At length, they untangled themselves, stepping back to study the other. "I suppose that means we are still going to give this relationship idea a go," he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. The trademark smirk played over his lips, and she was happy to see that he could still dawn that expression.

"If you want, then of course." She smiled at him, the early light now playing on his features as he stood in the right place, the crack in between curtains allowing the sliver through.

The smirk widened, and he suddenly snapped his arms out, dragging her to his body, his lips immediately finding hers. It was a powerful, reassuring type of kiss, and she sank into it, arms finding a place behind his neck.

He parted from her slowly, playing soft butterfly kisses across her face as he spoke. "Are you ready to face the world then with me Hermione?"

"So long as you want me by your side, yes."

* * *

><p>It covered the front page of every paper in every store, littering the world with news of the trial. The pictures were those of the defendants, as well as Hermione and Draco themselves, all photos taken outside the courtroom. The Headlines varied from <em>"Mass Murderers Back Where They Belong", "Secrets of the Malfoy and Black Family's Unleashed", "Misunderstandings Explained" <em>and _"Granger vs Malfoy". _She had ripped them all up.

Their names were splattered everywhere, and she had received so many owls that it was ridiculous. Draco's pile was just as large, but he had yet to find it. He had gone out, refusing to let her go along. She had a feeling she knew where he was going.

Among the letters from people she had spoken to once in her life- and in some cases, never- there were a few letters from the Weasley's. She had known they were coming since the trial- and considering that she had only sent Harry and Ron a messy owl saying that she had court and would explain everything later- she had almost expected owls earlier. But now the news was out and she barely had any time to collect herself and find a way to respond.

How was she going to explain everything? The papers did a basic explanation, but she knew her friends well enough to know they expected a detailed explanation. And now she would have to also tell them why she didn't come earlier and give them a heads up, or invite them to the court case. It would be a long conversation.

She chewed on her pen, ignoring the owls outside her window. Draco was gone, doing only Circe knew what, and she had some time to burn. Why not go now?

_Because you want to be able to do something else with your time? _She sighed, getting up. It would take a while, that was certain, to get everything out in the open again and have everyone understand why she did the things she did, but this way her friends could not be mad at her for her secrets again. After all of this, she refused to lose her friends.

Rummaging around the room, she quickly located a quill and some parchment. She scrawled a message to the missing blond:

_Draco~_

_I believe I know what you have gone to do, so I will not bother you with questions if you prefer. I've gone to the Weasley's since I have access to the Floo, and I will return when I am done. They sent owls along with everyone else in the world concerning questions and pity. I'm not sure how long it will take, but you might be back here._

_If I beat you though and once again can find nothing to do, I might have to return to those kitchens and convince the elves to go on vacation. We'd have to cook the muggle way and everything if that happened._

_~Hermione_

She hoped the end note would make him smile, if only a little. She knew he was still down, even after their talk that morning. It was January first, and already she knew it was going to be another long year.

They only had three more days before they returned to Hogwarts on January fourth.

* * *

><p>"I didn't expect you to come."<p>

"I wasn't planning to until this morning."

The man was quiet for a moment. "Did that Granger girl convince you to do this?"

"Father," Draco said, rolling his eyes at the man behind bars, "If this wasn't my own choice I wouldn't have come at all. I might be close with Hermione, but even she couldn't persuade me completely to come this far."

The man nodded, his hair frizzy once more, resembling the mat of hair he had once taught his son to tease the Mudblood for. "Then what is your business here? You can't possibly think that you will gain anything from this visit, can you? I expected you to run away from your mother and I when you found out the truth; you have always been one to run."

"Yes I have," Draco said with a shrug, not even defending his past. "But instances in these last few months have taught me it is better to stand my ground, and with someone by your side, it's easier to do."

"You mean the Mudblood?"

"Granger, or Hermione father. I won't listen if you call her anything else."

The man's eyes flashed; he had addressed her by first name now twice in the past three minutes. "I see you have gotten closer with Miss _Hermione_."

"I have," the blond replied with a shrug. "Probably a lot closer than you would care for."

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "What does that mean?"

"It means father, that I have been developing a relationship with her. I don't honestly care for your blessing, your curse, or anything else. This is my decision."

All signs of composure suddenly disappeared from the man's face and he lunged at the bars, gripping them with white knuckles. "You dare touch her? You dare soil yourself?!"

"You soiled our entire family with what you have done; what I am doing does not compare."

He reached through the bars, but the magic sensors zapped him and he retracted his hand, cursing. "Do you realize what you are doing? You are jeopardizing everything your mother and I seeked to accomplish! Killing the Evans is futile if you turn around and touch someone as lowly as a Mudblood."

The blond narrowed his eyes. "I don't care if it jeopardizes what you worked for; it was a fatal plan from the start. Your opinion isn't important father; you will be rotting in prison soon enough. Whom I choose to date is no longer your concern, and you only have yourself to thank for that. I doubt I would obey every command of yours anymore, since I haven't truly listened to you at all except in these last few days. This is my life, and because of your own actions you have completely removed yourself from it."

"You are still a Malfoy- you are still my son! You will not destroy centuries of breeding-"

"Inbred breeding father-"

"To deal with someone like her! I may have pitied her when I saw her, for she did take a lot from that man over something she never did, but I will not allow this. You would be throwing our line away for that girl, when there are so many people around who are better suited for you. Take-"

"I've heard enough father," Draco snapped, stepping away from the bars. "I don't need your opinion; it's not why I came here."

The elder man's eyes narrowed. "Then why are you here?"

The younger Malfoy took a breath. "Like I told you father, I never planned to come here. When I went back to the Manor and spoke with Hermione-"

"Stop saying her fucking name!"

"When I went back and spoke with _Hermione, _I realized I owed myself this. All those years of letting you destroy my individuality and segregate me to a group that I found I couldn't agree with, I owe myself this. You have always been a negative influence on my life, and I can't say I entirely regret your departure from my life. You have done what you thought was right, but now you have to pay for those sins. I didn't come to fight for your freedom, or tell you about the relationship I am starting; I came to say goodbye in simplest terms."

The older man snorted. "You would never waste the time to do something like that."

"Oh, you're right. I would not spend the time on you, not after all of these years of hell. I did this myself; it's time to let go father, and I am starting with you. I won't let your shadow overcast the rest of my life."

Lucius's eyes darkened, but he said nothing to his son's statement. It was with dark, angry eyes that he watched his heir turn his back and walk out of his life, his head filled with thoughts of Draco's own sins; he was the one who was falling for that fucking Mudblood, after all.

He was helpless as he watched him go. But it was not Lucius alone that Draco came to see. Walking a few cells down, he found his mother sitting crouched on another cell floor; he ignored the faces behind the other bars that he recognized, the voices of people he knew calling his name, fighting to have a few words with him before they were removed to Azkaban themselves. He dared not speak to his mother at first, and waited until the woman finally noticed his presence. All he could do was try and drown out the voices behind him.

"Draco," she asked, her voice dry. He knew she had water, for the Ministry was kinder than Azkaban, but it seemed she was neglecting it. She stood up and quickly made her way to the bars, sinking to the floor again once there. "What are you doing here? You shouldn't be lingering in these places; it's bad for you."

"It can't be as awful as realizing your parents snuck around behind your back for months preparing to kill two very innocent people." He couldn't let his glare soften as he stared at his mother, sitting in the cell, now looking down at her feet. He certainly cared more for her fate than his father's, and that was an awful thing to say. "How could you?"

"You don't understand," she whispered, staring at the floor. "You can't understand."

"Why can't I? You kept me out of the loop before, and now you will again? I don't understand you anymore mother; you were never one to follow violent paths, nor one who allowed herself to be pushed around like this. You let father persuade and bully you into murdering the Evans. Why?"

Her head snapped up. "Because I wanted your father to smile again Draco! I haven't seen him smile in years, not genuinely. I wanted to see him be happy, and I had to decide how far I would go. He only wanted a pure line on both sides."

"That doesn't even matter. If he was so insistent, he would've killed Andromeda, right? She betrayed your side and married someone who wasn't pure; Rodolphus just played with someone. So why didn't you go after her as well?"

Her head snapped up. "She's my sister! I would never allow him to touch her!"

Draco raised an eyebrow slowly. The other voices had quieted down, dying into a new silence around him. At least these fools had realized he wasn't there for them. He hated this conversation, hated that it almost immediately took a sour path. A pleasant conversation with his mother did not seem like it was an option now. "And Martha and Andrew were family to someone else as well." She looked down again, and he knew she was listening. Taking a seat outside her cell, he sighed. "I will come visit you; not for a while, I think you need some time to yourself, but I will come."

"You don't have to," she breathed, turning her head away from him now. "No one should have to come visit their parents in prison."

"I don't have much a choice though, do I?"

"No," she replied bitterly. They hadn't' left any other option than that, had they?

It was quiet for a while before she spoke again. "I heard you and your father screaming; you're taken with that Granger girl?"

He hated that they both had the same exact nicknames for her. "Yes, although as I told father, it doesn't really matter now that neither of you will be around for years."

"I suppose not," she breathed, pushing her hair away from her face. The long blond tresses were all over, and she wished she had chopped them off. They were going to be such a pain in prison. "What do you see in her?"

"Are you going to preach me as well about my terrible taste?"

Narcissa sighed, finally turning to look back at him. "I never said these were my beliefs Draco; I never said I liked your father's plan. I said I went along with it. I am certainly not a fan of the girl, but I could always tell you were, from the moment you told me you were bringing her home. Even when you arrived, there was an almost protective nature about you over her, as though you were preparing for your father to jump out and end her life."

"That was more of a possibility than I originally thought," he muttered.

"Yes, it was," she said sadly, playing with her fingers now. "I won't give you my blessing on this Draco, because I don't think she is right for you. I doubt you have even been with her long."

"Five days."

"Then there is really nothing to judge between the two of you yet. The relationship is far too new. You might discover that you prefer to only be friends, or have nothing to do with each other at all." She shrugged, pushing at her hair again. "In fifteen years, we will see where fate has led you."

The woman's words surprised the blond, and he looked at her with a closer eye. His mother had never hidden her distaste of Hermione, but to hear those words even slip from her mouth was a miracle. And one never knew; fifteen years with or without parole in prison could change a person, for better or worse. He would just have to find out- when he was thirty-three.

"Yes we will," he agreed, smiling lighting at his mother. Her words meant a lot to him actually; it meant that there was a possibility (even small) that someday she might be open minded. Nineteen years of being married to Lucius Malfoy had twisted her into the woman she was today, and perhaps this was just a shadow of her true person. He would have to visit; he would need to find out.

Silence fell upon them. Draco had no willpower to get up and leave the holding space, because once he walked out of the ministry his life would never be the same. He would never have parents to always be there for him, or the free will to write whatever he chose to them; the letters in Azkaban were read before delivery, and unless he wasted the time to make up a code, it would all be moderate conversations. He thought he might like it that way, because it would almost limit them to just basic details, and in the current situation that was all he really wanted. It would take some time for his brain to accept who his parents had really become. They were so different than who he imagined they were these days; Lucius was not crazy, and Narcissa was not innocent.

Once he left, the Malfoy world would crash down on his shoulders, and it would only be him who could stay and pick the pieces back up.

* * *

><p>"Are you ready," he asked, pulling her close, watching her eyes. The last few days had been full and hectic, with the pair running around to set things in order.<p>

"No," she replied flatly, looking around. Everything of hers was packed, and looking back into the expanse of the bedrooms she almost wished they weren't going back to school. This secluded land was an oasis of calm before the coming storm they had to enter into. Returning to school would be difficult, and all she could imagine was the stares, the judgment; everything she had sought to avoid when school began last semester.

Draco lightly grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him again. "Weren't you the one who said we would be there for each other? They are the same people we have gone to school with for seven years; ignore their judgments. They don't understand the situations we have been in."

At least he understood her fear, understood why she was hesitant to leave. She had expected him to be a wreck too, but he was collected. Then again, whenever they had to go out he was always calm. It was only in private did he let the real emotions and worries show, and she couldn't even imagine how difficult this was. When her parents were killed she had estranged family to help her slowly set things in order; he was going to brave this situation all alone. He had only himself to use to put things back together.

And he had her, whenever he needed her. Their relationship was new but after everything that had happened, their bond was strong.

"Yes, I was," she sighed, stepping from his grip. They had a train to catch. As she shrank her baggage, she looked back at him. "Will Pansy and Blaise meet us there?"

"Yes, although they are not thrilled to have to meet up with your friends as well. Really Hermione, this is going to start up more talk than there already is."

"People are going to talk about this so long as the topic is fresh," she corrected, grabbing her cloak. His luggage was gone as well, and he was now waiting for her to join him by the Floo. "No one can just accept the truth and leave it at that."

"No one ever does."

She nodded, taking a deep breath. "Ready?"

He smirked, rolling his grey eyes. "As I will ever be." He took her hand, and grabbed some powder. It was time to face the world again, that day on January fourth.


	35. I've Been Alone, All Along

**Final A/n: **Thank you to everyone that has been around reading this story. I hope this final chapter ties things up. I know it's not what a lot of you are going to want, but this is what I saw as the final bit. It leaves the future open for you to ponder yourselves. Thank you for staying with this for so long and please leave a review at the bottom so I know what you thought overall :) Enjoy.

Feel free to check out my other stories, for it is highly unlikely that there will be any sort of additions to this story now. 35 chapters seems like quite a bi. Check out my facebook page for updates, or add me so you know when something new has arrived :D

**JDeppIsMyLovely **spent month's beta-ing this for me, so thank you for helping me with it!

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><p><strong>I've Been Alone, All Along<strong>

_When you'd cry I'd_

_Wipe away all of your tears_

_When you'd scream I'd_

_Fight away all of your fears_

_I held your hand through all of these years_

_But you still have, all of me_

"Don't mind them," he whispered, pulling her closer. They were outside, so there was nothing anyone could say about their affection. The teacher's for the most part left them alone these days anyway. After the news of the trial broke, everyone treated them differently. Snape was even nice to her. She thought he was in shock still; they were so sweet towards each other the last several days, when they had still been rough with each other before the holiday. How times had changed.

He leaned down and gently kissed her, a smile playing across her lips at this. He pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. The relationship was still new; still exciting. Hopefully that feeling would never end. Neither could recall a time when they had ever felt connected to a person as strongly as they did now.

Returning to school had been one of the strangest things either teen had ever done. People gawked openly at them as they walked, and reporters had followed them around until they got on the train that first day. Even now, they were trying to persuade the Headmistress to allow them to come in, and thus far had been shot down each time. They were both relieved. The rest of the world didn't need to know every detail of what led to the trial, of their "spontaneous and growing relationship" as people called it, or how they felt in the aftermath. It was no one else's business.

But that didn't stop the students from staring as they walked. Wherever they went together, people watched. It was odd really, to have so many eyes following you. She was used to the attention because of Harry, but this was different. People looked at Harry because he was a legend. People looked at them as though they had never before seen something more peculiar. Sometimes she found their expressions funny, for although the younger years paid them no mind, it was people who were their age that couldn't get over the spectacle. People who had been on opposing sides were always coming together these days, so was it really that strange to see the duo together was well? Given their history; probably. But people could be a little less obvious when they watched them.

"It's hard to not notice them when they are always watching," she breathed in return, looking up at him through blond fringe. It was frigid outside, but that's why they created heating charms. Besides, they had hoped to avoid people here without success. Their dorm was nice, but after so much time it got tiresome. They couldn't just hide away for the rest of school together; they had to face their peers and all the gawking looks. It was better to get used to people's reactions now within the walls of Hogwarts than outside in the real world where there were no barriers to hide behind.

He kissed her cheek. "Then don't give them anything to watch." That was easy for him to say, considering his back was to the crowd- the people trying to seem innocent, like they weren't watching. She hated their faces; some watched with interest, jealousy and resentment, while others always had looks of pure horror on their faces, like they couldn't look at either of them without imagining all the things the papers spoke of. It was quite irritating. It's not like any of them could understand.

"Let's just go back to the dorm," she muttered.

* * *

><p>Six days, that was all the time that had passed since entering Azkaban for another round. It seemed like an eternity to Lestrange, who sat in his cell, his nails bleeding after his ill-fated attempt to claw his way out of the prison. But this time it didn't seem that he would find a way out of this hell.<p>

He knew who to blame; he knew who to hate. Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. They had gone after the truth, the answers, to ease their minds and set themselves at ease. They had wanted answers, and the pair had gotten them, even if they were not the kinds of answers anyone had expected. He would be a liar if he said he did not hate himself for overlooking obvious things. But that was going to change nothing now. He couldn't take anything back, he couldn't change the past. He could only suffer the consequences of his own actions now.

They had banished him to this hell, and soon his life would end when the Dementor's came for him. He was angry, he was livid, but he was helpless to do anything. The prison was now sealed; a newly remodeled fortress that no longer allowed for escapees, and this prisoner was facing his daunting fate each and every moment. The truly horrible thing was that he had not been given a date, so he could not prepare himself for the end of his life.

It was unfair, and he lashed out at the wall again, ignoring the pain as he tore another nail off, blood slowly leaking down his hand. He would never get revenge on them, or Lucius, or Narcissa. He was going to die, just like sweet Bella, and Martha and Andrew.

What a cruel world. Slouching against the wall, he screamed. He had no other means of releasing his anger, other than self-harm, and he had already done enough of that. At this point, all he could do was hope that someday, someone would get them back for all of this.

They were after all going to be the reason he had to die.

_If I had the chance, they would pay for this. They would suffer all over again. But I don't think I will have the chance to get back at them. This place is playing with me- dragging out my death. It's only a matter of time before the walls collapse and the Dementors come for me. I can't get them from this place; I can't hurt her now that they had extracted the bloody magic from the scar! I have nothing to grasp onto!_

He turned back, beating the wall with open palms. He couldn't just sit here and wait, he had to try to get out. This couldn't be the end of him! He had things he needed to finish!

Only the problem was he didn't see a way he could accomplish anymore of his goals. Not here; not now. He could only sit back and wait for death to come to him.

And that was almost more terrifying than death itself; the prospect of waiting, the prospect of getting to think about it for too long, could unravel the remaining shreds of his mind long before death took him from the world.

He feared this was how things would end; his mind would go long before his body, and that was truly horrifying. If only he could stop it somehow. But he was already clinically insane, and nothing would stop his mind from further deteriorating. It was only a matter of time.

* * *

><p>Draco drummed his fingers on the desk in his room. It was strange to be back in that place after such an eventful holiday, but he liked it in a way. School had become interesting if nothing else. Hermione might hate the attention they got, but he thought it was amazing. All those people stared at them because they dared to cross boundaries and be a couple. It was not only that, but that was what he liked to focus on; the good things. He didn't want to ponder what they thought of them as individuals, as people now that everything had come into the light except their own confessions, for they refused to give the media that extra bit of information to spread around. He only liked the envious looks he received- the ones that questioned why she chose <em>him<em>- because it reminded him that she _had _chosen him. Out of everyone she had known for years, despite all of their history and the fact that he had imprisoned her in a slave deal of all things, she had chosen to be with him, and that was a miracle. He could almost be thankful for the horrifying experiences, if only because they turned his viewpoints around, and forced him to actually have a heart. It was definitely a new experience, one that he didn't exactly regret. He had to admit, this was the happiest he had been in a very long time, and it was all because of her.

But it came at a price. He was losing both of his parents; one for a lifetime and one for fifteen years. It was a hideous blow on his life, and he could only thank the Malfoy funds that he was rich, and would not need to worry about reorganizing anything dealing with the family business and finances until after graduation, when he would have the time. That was what his father's advisor would be for; balancing. This was a man Draco had rarely spoken to over the last eighteen years, but he knew the man was brilliant and would never dare steal anything from the family. It was with that fact alone that Draco trusted him.

He reached up, running a hand through his hair. He had sent Hermione to shower, complaining that she needed to relax. Term had been going on for an entire two days, and he knew the looks they were thrown weighed her down emotionally. This was the first time really that the entire story was broadcasted, and he knew it was hard for her. It was hard on them both really, but more so for her in a way. His parents had always been considered "evil" just for their standpoint in the war, and the new reports only confirmed those old suspicions. Her parents were muggles; they should've been considered innocents. And innocent they were the day their lives ended. Perhaps that was why people looked on at them the way they did; he was considered evil, she innocent. They did make quite a match, didn't they?

The blond glanced up, looking at the small statue she had given him as an unsuspected Christmas gift. It could come in handy if anymore rogue Death Eater's decided to come their way. If that day came, he would be ready, and he knew she would be too. After everything, neither would ever let something like this slip by them again; it came at too high of a cost.

All their problems were nearly over, and that was something he could be thankful for. How long had it been since he really relaxed? They returned on January fourth, and it had only been two days, but he felt enlightened. There were no heavy weights, no constant worries of death or of someone stealing her away in the night. Everything had played out, and he could only accept that now, no matter how it bothered him. His soul was enlightened but his mind remained haunted, constantly thinking about his parents- mostly his mother. He wasn't sure if she could withstand Azkaban.

He fingered the ring he had taken from his father's belongings, the one that now rested on his middle finger. It was the Malfoy ring, worn by the eldest Malfoy of the family, the one in control. Since his father would never leave that prison, it was now his. Looking down at the piece of jewelry on his finger, he couldn't say that this was a delight. If anything, it just reminded him of all the things he would have to put in order once school was out- and that was a lot.

Somehow through all of this, their friends had learned to accept everything. It surprised Draco how easily those Gryffindor's took her new relationship, although he expected it was from utter shock more than anything else. He was Draco Malfoy after all, who could at any moment "ruin" their sweet princess. He just had no intention to do so. And while the Gryffindor's were semi-welcoming, Pansy and Blaise had proven to be more rigid. It was hard for them to consider being kind, when they were still stuck in strict Slytherin beliefs, Pansy more than Blaise. He could only assume that they might come around, although he could never imagine any of them being close friends. The mutual kindness was only for his and Hermione's benefit he knew, and expected nothing more. At least they were all civil. They would both need it once school let out, and they had to brave the world once more.

The door to his bedroom opened, and he looked up to spot his Gryffindor coming in, her hair dripping still from her shower. She could spell it dry, although he doubted she wanted to. She seemed a bit withdrawn, and the moment she sank down beside him on the bed he could feel her shakes.

"What's wrong," he asked, tilting his head to the side as he pulled her tight to him. She had been acting strange lately, and he knew something still haunted her mind. She just needed to let go, to move on, and they could begin to rebuild their lives. But neither could do that so long as she clutched to those painful memories.

"It's all so wrong," she breathed, her breath tickling his neck. "Everything."

"What is?"

She pulled back a bit, meeting his eyes. "How everyone is treating us. How things played out. Just… everything."

Ah, he understood. He knew she had not slept well since coming back to school. The girl had a pure heart, and although it didn't affect her, he knew she had been feeling guilty about his parent's relocation. Reaching out, he stroked her face lovingly with a long finger. "It's not wrong Hermione, it's expected. Things played out the way they were meant to; it all came out in the end. You can't feel bad about that. Everything that we got to see play out for months has been blasted across the papers in one large blow, and that's a lot for the public to take in. Granted, we shouldn't really care what they think, but you have to accept that they won't look at us the same for a long time. Their perceptive have changed on us, like ours have on each other, and maybe ourselves as well." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "It will get better; you just have to blow everyone off. They will think what they want of us no matter what."

She glanced up at him, the silly tears having disappeared. "Shouldn't I be the one comforting you? Shouldn't I be the one helping you feel better after everything? I've been dealing with my parent's departure for months, but yours-"

"Mine just started," he cut in, rubbing her arm. "It might come as a surprise to you, but my family was never the ideal set of people. We were patchwork really; people that were not right for each other, thrown together through an arranged marriage. My parents never worked as a couple really, and it only seemed to get worse as I grew up." He shifted a bit, and it just reminded her again that this had to be a difficult topic for him. She smiled lightly at this, proud that at least he understood what had to be done; that he had to discuss things, even if he didn't like it. It would help in the long run, when he was forced to learn to heal after all of this. "I will miss the family setting, but I can't say that I'm losing everything. To lose everything, I would need to have had a lot to begin with. I had funds, not love."

Hermione watched him with that same slight smile as he spoke, but didn't interrupt. When he finished, she rested her head back against his chest. She didn't want to add anything; he already knew his life better than she ever would. That was the cold truth, and he said it without emotion. He was going to keep himself detached from the real pain as long as possible, and learn to cope the way many men attempted to; alone. Only he wasn't alone, he had her.

In the aftermath, it was strange to see how truly different their families had been, even though they both lost their parents in the end. She snuggled closer at that thought. She had been so lost when her parents were killed, when she was forced to start all over and pretend nothing was wrong even after she spent several days after her encounter with Rodolphus at St. Mungo's, trying to fight back her tears. She had never intended to tell anyone what had happened, and if she had never done that her situation would still be bad, or she might even be dead. Telling him her problems had probably saved her life in more ways than one in the end- which was funny to think about, when one considered how they had started the year out.

Now she would have to do the same for him.

* * *

><p>Harry Potter sat in his room, Ginny Weasley at his side. They had manipulated the stairs, using a levitation spell and an invisibility cloak to hide her on the trip up- not that any of the seventh years would say anything to him, except maybe Ron, but he was currently somewhere downstairs in the common room lost in a conversation with Lavender Brown. Now they sat quietly, staring at the large window in the room he shared with four other boys, even though this was not the reason he cleared out his room for the next hour.<p>

They had been going over the story Hermione gave them over and over. Ron for the most part, was pushing her away. They knew why, they understood; he had really liked her, but in the end she turned to their enemy for the bulk of her help, and eventually had fallen for him. It had once been a heavy blow to their friendship, but it was something none of them held over her head any longer. They couldn't, not with what they knew now. They could only wish that she had allowed them to help more. But Ron, ever the jealous type, wasn't as forgiving. At least he was speaking with Lavender now, for perhaps he could learn to love Hermione like a sister again instead of a possible girlfriend if he had Lavender to catch his affections.

At least now, the three of them could help her. Ron might be a bit hurt, but he was still there for her. They had all listened to her explanation when she came to the Burrow, and they were all by her side now. Dealing with Zabini and Parkinson were another deal, and although they could tolerate Malfoy to some extent, those two were harder. House rivalry ran deep, even after everything that happened, and they were still uncomfortable accepting those two. Malfoy was a huge step within itself, but the couple could be cold when it came to sitting in the same room with the Gryffindor's. Blaise Zabini was friendlier than his girlfriend, who looked horrified at associating with them at all. Ginny thought that was rather funny, considering the girl had gotten close with Hermione, who supposedly should be lower on her friend list than the three of them. But the two girls shared experiences that the Gryffindor's had never gone through, and that created a small bond between them that none of the other's would ever have. Perhaps that was what convinced Pansy to come and sit near them at all; the fact that she and Hermione had become so similar. Still, it was a growing process and it would take a long time for any of them to really be comfortable with the way things were.

They couldn't rightly ignore Draco either; not now that Hermione was beginning a relationship with him. They didn't exactly like it, they still were wary around him, but no one in England could deny that he had helped her; that he kept her safe. They had to put their faith into that alone, and they could only hope that he wouldn't turn around and hurt her. Harry and Ron feared this fact a lot more than Ginny did though. There was something in the duo's eyes when they looked at each other that only a girl noticed. Their eyes sparkled a bit, and she knew they felt something for each other. It almost made her smile; she had never seen Hermione look so happy with someone before. Now if only Ron would accept that- but Lavender could supply a stepping stone towards his acceptance, if things continued to go well between them.

"Should I talk to her again," Harry fretted, breaking their silence. He glanced at Ginny, and she just gave him a soft smile.

"You have _tried _to speak to her before Harry," Ginny replied with a smile, looking on at him. "She isn't ready. It's been months, but it's months that she hasn't really spoken about it. Malfoy may have been someone she dealt with and spoke about this with, but all the emotions aren't gone. You can't push her though, alright? You've had to deal with it a lot longer than she is, you've had years longer to tolerate this issue. She hasn't. You have to give her the time to adjust and learn to cope. I'm sure you can help her along the way though; you- and even Malfoy- understand better than a lot of us do. She'll speak, just give her time."

"How _much _time?"

Ginny shrugged, leaning up to kiss him. "I don't know Harry; that's up to Hermione."

"But-"

She gave him a look, cutting him off. "But nothing. You're concerned Harry, just like Ron and I are, but we can't make her speak. It goes a lot deeper than the usual deaths; her parents were murdered, just like yours, and that takes time to accept. Maybe it was different for you, because you were so much younger, but it's different."

He sighed, resting his head against the top of hers. "Then what do we do? Do we just keep wandering around with her, even when we know she is still hurting?"

"It's all we can do," the ginger breathed, staring out at the while world, the layer of snow covering everything they could see from the high outlook. "It's Hermione's life. She will speak when she is ready. All we can do is keep staying by her side and helping her, like we should've done from the beginning."

Harry nodded once, twisting his head around so he could lean down and kiss her. She was right after all. Things had already come to pass, and now they could only help piece Hermione's life back together, while she stood by and helped Draco Malfoy fix his own.

* * *

><p>The days passed slowly. Hermione still felt like everyone was staring at her, and it was sickening. At least her talk with Draco the other day had helped her feel better; now she could hold her head high when she walked and not care. She didn't like it, but no one else had to know that. So long as she made them believe that they didn't affect her, their curiosity would eventually diminish and things could gravitate back to normality.<p>

At least the questions had stopped. A fourth year had asked her in a joking manner about her parents the other day, and Ron had gone off on the child. Needless to say, no one bothered questioning her anymore. The papers didn't answer everything, but the two students had completely refused interviews, so it was all anyone was going to get. And after several days, the reporters had given up obtaining new information. The Ministry officials would give nothing up, nor would Draco and Hermione. Without interviews, the story diminished and dropped off the papers entirely. Both teens were extremely grateful.

She had just turned a corner on her way to lunch when an arm shot out, locking around her middle. She attempted to scream but a hand locked onto her mouth, silencing her as she was dragged into an empty classroom. The moment the door was shoved shut, she was released and spun around to stare at her attacker.

"Draco," she said, placing a hand on her chest as her rapid breathing quickly decreased. "What do you think you're doing!? I was about to hex you so many times-"

He placed a finger on her lips, gently silencing her. She didn't like it one bit, but let him quiet her. "Sorry," he breathed, leaning forwards to replace his finger with his lips. She accepted the kiss happily, even if inside her mind she was recoloring his perfect hair pink out of irritation. When he pulled away, his face was full of seriousness.

"What's wrong," she said, looking into his eyes. There was something hidden behind that mask.

"My mother sent me an owl this morning," he said, although the delight that should've been in his voice wasn't there. She frowned at that.

"Is that bad?" It seemed early, considering how recently the Mafloy's had been imprisoned, but she didn't know if that was good to mention or not.

He shook his head. "She had nothing bad to say to me. Azkaban is vile though; I don't think she will be able to send another for a while."

She nodded slowly. "I'm sorry," she said, reaching up to kiss him as an act of comfort, but he turned his head away. She sensed that maybe this wasn't all of it, and stepped back off of her toes to listen.

"She sent you a letter as well." Her grip slackened on him a bit, and he could see the surprise pooling in her eyes. That was not something she was prepared for.

He pulled her arms off of him, smiling lightly at the puzzled expression on her face. "I don't know what she said; just that it was addressed to you. It makes me wonder what she had to say to you."

"Me too," she breathed, eyes large. She shook her head, brown hair flying around her. "Why did you grab me? We share a dorm; you could've given it to me then."

He smirked, kissing her again as his had went to his pocket, searching for the letter. When he pulled back his expression was still the same. "I wanted to surprise you."

"Surprise me, or scare me?"

Draco chuckled. "Perhaps a little of both. The real danger is gone Hermione; you can't fear my uncle anymore."

She rolled her eyes. "Well I knew it wasn't him." She brushed blond fringe out of his eyes. "Well can I see this letter? I would like to know what it says."

"As would I. I left it in the dorm so that nothing happened to it, and I had already presumed that you wouldn't want to read it in this dirty classroom." He bent and kissed her. "Shall we go get it?"

All she could do was roll her eyes. "Of course!"

* * *

><p><em>Hermione Granger~<em>

_Let me be very clear; I will not apologize for your loss, nor will I pity you. I can hardly pity anyone but myself at this time, but perhaps someday I will be able to see your side of the story as well as your hurt. However today I write to you for one single purpose; need._

_I don't know you, and honestly I doubt I will ever want to know you. You my child are too much of a Mudblood; too much of a representation of the people I have been bread to hate. But, I am a mother above all else, even above being Lucius's wife, and I am not blind. Your stay at the Manor was brief at best, and from that short meeting I can say that I learned little about you. The few other occasions which you saw me for were under worse circumstances, and left an imprint of yourself on me that does little to reflect your personality. Let me be frank Miss Granger that by dating my son as you have so boldly dared to do, you are crushing the very foundation of the Malfoy line; purity. Lucius gave up our freedoms for that simple fact, and to see it all be torn to shreds by his obsession with you is sickening. The only problem is that it comes across as more than just an obsession, and that's even worse. Do you even realize how serious this is?_

_It's obvious that I can do little about any of this from my current position. If I resided in that home still I would have you removed from the premises, just like I attempted to at the beginning of the Winter holiday. You will be an obstacle to the Malfoy line Miss Granger, a problem; a problem that I have a difficult time removing._

_But let me say this; something about your filthy blood and confident attitude has captured my son's attention for whatever reason. I do not understand his obsession nor his captivation with you only that it has surpassed anything I have seen him treasure in the past. Why you, why my son wants to throw away years of perfect breeding for you is beyond me._

_I know what you are thinking, the two facts flipping over in your mind; why am I sending this, and why do I sound so much like my husband? The second answer is simple; it got me in here, and it is the only thing I know to follow. It is my belief that this entire idea of a relationship is a mistake. After all, that belief got me locked away._

_I want you to really think about things Miss Granger as you embark down this complicated path with my son. We are Malfoy's; we hold ourselves high. And even if the two of you only ever date, you will be shunned in our group. Purebloods rarely mingle with anyone of lesser blood, and just because my sweet Draco might be willing to stand up for you around your peers doesn't mean he can always do so. You went through a trial to have an easy life? To get away from all the stress that has been in your life since your parents died? By dating my son you will be doing the opposite._

_As I have said, I really have no way of controlling what the two of you do, only advising. So take my advice; if you are going to tread dangerous water, have a second plan in case your first proves fatal. I will not wish you luck, but I am curious to see if the two of you remain with so many obstacles against you. It's not as though I have to know until I am free, for no one has to alert me of anything, least of all the two of you. But you can count on my letter to my son being far kinder than yours. Now I can only hope that you heed my advice._

_Don't disregard what I have to say. My family line was not as prestigious as Lucius's was when we first came together, and I faced hardships as well, though nowhere near as difficult as you will have to deal with. Don't mistake these warnings for blessings or advice, for they serve the purpose of neither. Get that through your head now._

_~N. Malfoy_

Hermione read the letter twice. It was filled with bitterness and anger, all of which was pinpointed at her. The blond she was currently 'poisoning with her dirty blood'- according to this woman- read it over her shoulder. By the time she balled it up and threw it across the room, he had gotten through it a third time, annoyance speeding up his pace.

"Well of course it would be something like that! What did we expect? A cheerful letter full of good wishes from your mother? Or perhaps a _blessing_- but no, she wouldn't grace us with one of those, not that we need it!" She reached up and pulled at her hair. "Can't people just get over the fact that we are in a relationship? Why does everyone fight the fact so much?"

"Because it goes against everything," he sighed, rubbing his temples. Maybe he should've burned the letter.

She nodded furiously, finally releasing the grip she had on her curls. "It's not going to be easy- we knew that from the start. Your mother makes a valid point that she has no say in our relations, just like your father doesn't. It's really up to us, isn't it? That entire letter was sent to destroy our faith in what we have-"

"The entire _letter _was sent because she can't stand that I'm with you," he sighed, sitting down. He ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes turned away. "She is coyly trying to remove the focus from her hatred for you towards her fear for what might happen to us. It's something she taught me to do- so I already know the trick. Don't be fooled by it."

She sighed, sitting down beside him. "It's just there to mess with our minds, isn't it?"

"Yes," he replied, snaking an arm around her shoulders to pull her close. Kissing her temple, he rested his head against the side of hers. "It's never been easy Hermione, not since all of this started."

"Not since you decided to act out of character and help me in the corridor," she challenged, pulling away to meet his eyes. He in return held her gaze.

"Yes, not since then." Reaching out, he interlocked their fingers, something she stared at for a long time.

The situation she was in now was not where she had ever predicted she would end up. Malfoy was sweet, caring, and protective. She couldn't fathom how much torture she would've received had he not been around when her cancer sped up, when Rodolphus posed as Daniel Welsh and beat her, when she ran around looking for answers, when she was unsure about what to do next. Her long time enemy had become her savior, and she couldn't be happier in retrospect that it was _him_ that saved her life.

A question of his from so many months ago rang clear in her head; _What would you give, to save your life? _

Looking back now, it seemed that they had both given everything. Pain, time, trust, love, compassion, fear, angry worry, they all had come into play at some point in time. And it was only because of that that she was still alive, and that he was more open.

She leaned up and kissed him, shoving her thoughts away. She was grateful to him, she had learned to feel love for him, and now she just wanted to _feel _him. And as though feeling her need, he responded eagerly, kissing her back with just as much compassion as she gave. It wasn't long before she had shoved him back, leaning her upper body against his.

He broke the kiss. "So Hermione?"

"Yes?" She rested on her arm.

He reached up long fingers, brushing her curls over her shoulder. "Breathe."

"Excuse me?"

The blond chuckled. "Breathe; you're too worried." He leaned up, kissing her once. "You have to let yourself go."

That was easy for him to say; Draco was rarely tense anymore. But she didn't say that, because for once she felt at ease. The gentle kisses, the thoughts passing through her mind, and the dwindling story had slowly eased her fear away.

Her abusers were in prison, and they would never come out. It was time to stop worrying, wasn't it?

"I guess I do." She kissed him, and he returned the favor.

Lying there in bed, sharing rough kisses, they couldn't tell anyone in the world where they would go from there, only that it would be someplace amazing. Because all they knew was that the worst of it was behind them, and things could only get better from there. Things were looking up, and if that moment was any indicator, it seemed that they would be around each other for a long time, to help fight away any additional problems.

But, those were events that had yet to unfold, and for now they were content lying there in bed in each other's arms. Their problems could wait until another day.

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><p><em>~FIN~<em>

**Dedication: **This story was originally written based of the cancer my grandmother developed months ago. If she were here today, I would hope this is something she could be proud of me for writing, so this was written in her honor.

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><p>Additional as of 0807/2013: A remake of this story will be posted sometime on this site. An A/n will be posted when that happens. Stay on the lookout for it!


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